Sworn Duty
by La terrible La
Summary: Lotor is confronted with an electronic glitch in his bionic arm. It is a much bigger issue then it appears, and will set in motion a series of life changes.
1. Broken Tool

Hello all! This is my first fanfic. Please note that my first language is French. Any bizarre phrasing of punctuating is probably caused by this fact.

I used the Voltron fandom but I'm not an unconditional fan, in the sense that I only saw a few episodes in the eighties, and I watched part of the 3D version.

I made one reference to another fanfic (that will be in a few chapters), a short story titled "The Spiked Punch Incident" in the Beyond Denubian site. All hails to the authors. I don't own that story, nor do I own anything even remotely associated with Voltron.

I always thought that Lotor was a cool villain because he's handsome, a rare thing among villains back in the eighties, and because I love ambivalent characters. Even nowadays you almost never see good looking villains except in the Japanese anime. In fact the loss of that irresistible face it is what inspired this fic. So this is a V3D story (read on before you go away!), even though I didn't like the show – I worked with 3D software and figured I should at least see what they turned up. While I liked some of the ideas, I thought the 3D looked appalling and didn't bring anything to the show, in fact crushed it. Making it into a good story is the kind of challenge I enjoy, and I wanted to do something different. Hope you'll like it!

Please don't flame me because I spell Arus, Aris. I just think it's looks better, no offense.

**1- Broken Tool**

He hated it. You could not even term this thing as an arm. Calling it an appendage would still be a compliment. And now, as if its very ugliness wasn't enough, it wouldn't work properly. Two of the digits had glitches and moved constantly. Unfortunately bionic arms didn't come with a warranty, or instruction sheets. He had tried to fix it, but it was impossible with only one hand. Besides he couldn't see anything wrong, the insect like artificial arm had all it's wiring concealed behind black metal. The castle was empty save for his father, his witch, two untrustworthy pirates and Igor. If he wanted to have the thing fixed he'd have to go to a hospital, and of course he'd be arrested on sight.

If only he could remove it. He'd probably be better off with one arm than having to live with this twitching monstrosity. He had shown the arm to Zarkon, but his dear father had qualified that as a minor problem. He said that he was still functional. Well, of course, the Almighty ex-King didn't have to sleep with that cold, ugly, wiggling thing. And the self elevated ex-Minister of Peace had just confirmed without thinking that he thought of his son as a means to get an end. A tool. His comfort or lack thereof didn't even come into play, so long as he was _functional_.

It had been almost a week now. Lotor was lying on his bed, watching the mechanical device distractedly, turning it this way and that, observing the mad little dance of his artificial hand. Night and day had no meaning here in the middle of the dark space, but they had worked out a kind of schedule and he had a few precious hours to rest. Still, sleep eluded him. He got up from his bed and started pacing again. In the past few days he must have walked kilometres in the small space between his bed and the wall. He felt like breaking something, but then anger had been his constant companion ever since the crash. He had already smashed all the mirrors, some furniture, he had punched holes in the walls, and it didn't help. His room was a mess, the destructive path visible in sharp contrast with those few items still intact and covered in dust. He picked a shard of one of the broken mirrors and looked at himself with disgust. In a pathetic attempt to maintain dignity he smoothed back his hair in an automatic gesture. He should work out this reflex, he thought, since it was such a waste of vanity.

He would never have his angel now...

He saw the change from rage to sadness, saw the subtle interplay of the metal plates of his half mask trying to mimic the expression on his face. He let the shard fall on the floor and carefully worked his anger back in place. Anger energized him, and in sadness, he knew, lay the road to self destruction. He wondered idly if would it be so bad... There were so many quick ways to get rid of oneself.

He pushed that thought away. He had to think of a new plan, yes, that was it, keep his unruly brain occupied. How to trick the V-force and keep his father happy while keeping his angel safe... And while he was at it, a little anaesthetic would be nice. He found a bottle and didn't bother to get a glass. If he was to forget the damned appendage, he needed a strong dose. Something that would really knock him out and give him the coveted few hours of liberation. He took a long drink and sat in his half broken sofa, put his legs up on the armrest, arranged the cushions and began to think of his enemies.

Nevertheless, his fleeting thought inched its way quietly in the background of his mind, to a place where he never went anymore. The same place where he had stashed away other memories, a safe place, so immobile and silent. And the thought settled there, amidst the memory of his mother and of the horrors he had witnessed.

***** ***** *****

"LOTOR, WAKE UP!"

Oww. It must have been at least the tenth call. Why did his father have to put the volume of his messages quite so loud? He knew Zarkon enjoyed screaming at him when he had been drinking. He moved a little and groaned. Damn that twitch! The stupid appendage brought him wide awake. He saw he was sprawled on the sofa and tried to extirpate himself from the heavy cushions. What a hangover. He hadn't had one like this in ages. He felt miserable and wished he could go back to sweet oblivion. He hobbled to the bathroom in hope that the noise of a cold shower would bury Zarkon's incessant calls. What did the fossil want with him anyway?

It had always made Zarkon furious to see him with his hair wet and dripping . Of course he did it on purpose. Drops would fall on the floor of his father's beloved, ugly castle, the last symbol of his lost power. Zarkon would take it as a personal insult, which was exactly what it was. The fossil's face would turn mauve with fury. The prince had let his hair grow again: his father hated long hair. After having it left untouched for half a year, it was already back to his waist. Lotor's last symbol of his lost beauty. Still dazed from his encounter with the sweet bottle, he even had the gall to give his father a wobbly mock salute, in the same fashion his drule subjects used to give homage to their ruler. In a voice dripping with sarcasm he asked :

"How can I be of service to Your Supreme Majesty?"

Surprisingly, Zarkon let it pass. He was up to something, his expression was sharp and triumphant.

"You can begin by wiping that smug look off your face, drunkard. You haven't made yourself exactly useful, these days. I'm beginning to wonder why I bother with you at all."

Lotor smirked.

"You got rid of so many people you thought inadequate that you are left with just four of us, father. Oh sorry, I forgot that celebrated pile of junk, Igor. Well, make that 5 of us. Maybe you're just too damned hard to please... maybe WE should begin to wonder why we bother to stay..."

"Shut up, Lotor. We can fence some other time. Actually, I'm not going to let you spoil my excellent mood."

'I wish,' thought Lotor.

"I can't believe you actually slept through the whole thing," continued his father. "We have two visitors from Aris."

The ex Monarch smiled evilly. He motioned to Hagar and she brought forth the image of the dungeons. Two members of the Voltron force were imprisoned. Hunk was in obvious distress, and Pidge was lying on the floor, bleeding and apparently unconscious.

"We're going to let them simmer for a while," Zarkon said. "Their friends will certainly bite to this perfect bait... We'll leave with Igor to deal with the others. As for you, you may guard the castle. From what I've seen, all of your plans to destroy the Voltron force failed. You should reflect on your continued presence here. Maybe the weakness you show towards the pink princess is affecting what little brains you have... How pathetic. After all these years, still pining like a lovesick adolescent. Why not just take her, you fool? Why is she not already your slave? Marriage. Fah!"

Normally Lotor would have furiously retorted, but all of a sudden he felt very bored. He listened has if in a trance, feeling quite distant from all this. His father was continuing his lesson in morals. He felt he shouldn't have gotten out of his cushions, they were so soft. The capture of the two pilots should have excited him, but strangely, it did not. Hagar licked her lips in joy and the two pirates were watching them with their eyes full of greed. They were probably getting quite a fee for whatever part they had played in this capture. Zarkon was still lecturing; Lotor just turned and left. _That_ made the fossil furious. He could hear his ranting in the dark corridors that would mercifully lead him back to his sofa and his bottle. He smiled a little, and that smile dropped immediately. His father was right after all. He was pretty useless. Maybe he didn't want to be useful anymore. To be used as a tool, a cold tool. He even looked like one, with that thing sprouting out of his shoulder.

Lying again amidst his cushions, he gratefully welcomed the sound of the Revenge leaving. Now, the only persons in the castle were he and the prisoners. He was pretty sure the timeless scenario would replay again: ...captives miraculously escape, Doom ships attack lions, lions form robot, robot destroys ships, robeasts are sent, robot forms F... blazing sword and slices robeast, end of chapter. It made him smile again. Now _that_ was pathetic. Maybe he should pay a visit to the prisoners. See if the small one was badly hurt. Maybe he could send them on their way so that his beloved father could share with him the bitter cup of defeat... He could make it look as if they escaped. And he could name his price...

***** ***** *****

Hunk was quite worried. Pidge wouldn't wake up. His glasses were broken. The yellow lion pilot had spent his time removing Midge's helmet without moving the eyewear. Now that this was done, he gently removed the broken frame from his friend's face and examined the cut it had made. Around it the swollen tissue had turned purple. The pilot realized that if Pidge hadn't worn a helmet, he'd be mourning him by now. Without his glasses his companion looked very fragile. He tried to make him more comfortable, called his name and took his hand.

"What a touching tableau," said a sarcastic voice.

The pilot swirled around. Of course, Lotor would _have_ to come and gloat. The prince had let his hair grow again, and for the first time Hunk saw it uncombed and wild. The sharp, cold light from directly above framed his half-destroyed face in a lacework of luminous white chaos and made his metallic mask gleam. He wore a bizarre looking cloak. Its colors constantly adjusted to blend in its surroundings. A spy cloak. Its sharp shadows cut the prince's figure in a mockery of his old elegance. Hunk turned his back on him. No point in letting an enemy see how worried he was.

"I actually have a proposition for you, lion boy."

"I wouldn't deal with you Lotor. None of us would"

"Tsk. You will deal with anybody if the price is right. Your friend is hurt, isn't he? What a nasty bump. Nice color, too... He could have a fracture. He could lose his precious intelligence and become a vegetable. A brain is so fragile..."

Hunk slowly turned around again.

"What do you want?"

"Ah! That's better. I can help you get out, but you'll have to help me first. Pidge maintains you're the best mechanic in the universe, doesn't he?"

"What would _you_ want from a mechanic?"

For an answer, Lotor took his metallic arm out of his cloak. The two outer digits still twitched.

"Could you repair this?"

"I don't know. I'd have to take it apart."

Lotor sighed.

"You people tend to take the given word quite seriously. If you swear you won't use your freedom to flee, and that you'll look if you can stop this, I'll have a medbot take care of your friend. Once the damned thing is repaired, I'll let both of you go. Doesn't that sound like a good deal?"

"How do I know your medbot won't make him worse then he is?"

"You don't..."

***** ***** *****

Pidge was lying on a narrow bed in an infirmary that looked like a torture chamber. A floating machine hovered around him, taking scans. It assured Hunk that only the flesh had been damaged. The patient wasn't in any danger. The glasses had broken within the helmet, opening this gash. The medbot got busied wrapping a bandage on Pidge's head.

Hunk sighed in relief, and Lotor tapped his foot with impatience. He was seated on another of the narrow cots. He had removed his cloak and extended his bionic arm toward Hunk. The pilot smiled a little. Lotor looked like someone waiting for his dentist to begin. Hunk looked around and took what he thought he'd need. He had to admit that for all its forbidding appearance, this lab was remarkably complete. He wondered if Lotor would let him leave with some of that awesome equipment. He thought, 'I guess the right question would be, will he let us leave at all?'

Hunk approached the prince of Doom and took hold of his arm. As always when confronted with a broken mechanism, he would forget everything and focus on the problem at hand. He didn't waste a single thought on the fact that he was working at the side of one of his worse enemies. Turning the arm around, he found how it was assembled and made sort work of the outer shell. The innards of the arm became exposed.

"What a cheap piece of junk, he exclaimed without thinking."

"I couldn't agree more," Lotor said with tired voice.

It made Hunk look up at him. The prince looked almost... well, defeated. There was a deep sadness in his strangely divided face. It made Hunk uncomfortable. He returned his gaze to what he knew best: machines.

"Well, it's only a minor glitch. I'll have it done in no time..."

An uneasy silence followed. Hunk cut connections and the arm went quite dead. He then proceeded to repair it. He saw a structure that didn't seem to belong; it was Hunk's special talent to understand exactly the role of each individual part. 'Should I tell him that he has an unknown mechanism in there?' He wondered. 'It's really none of my business...'

"What's that thing?" Lotor asked.

"What thing?"

"That bundle, there."

'OK, so he spotted it. He didn't seem to know about it either.'

"I've never seen exactly the like, but I'd bet my boots it's a custom made tracking device."

"A _WHAT!?_"

Hunk jumped at the unexpected fury of the prince. Lotor got up and paced, mumbling to himself. He was certain it wasn't Garrison's, since they'd have tracked him here. He realized that his father probably kept track of his every move with the thing. Zarkon could monitor him, making sure the wayward prince didn't get where he didn't belong. That was why he could never set foot secretly on Aris, like he had done so often in the past. Zarkon would always catch him at it. The prince was seething with fury. Who had decided he'd get that bionic thing on, anyway? He had always assumed it had been decided at that hospital where he had spent the most horrible time of his life. Did his father already have at that time enough influence in the inner workings of the Galaxy Garrison government? Well, the wily fossil always planned for every contingency. If that was true, that meant he could have sprung him out of the Bastille years before, and that he had kept him on ice, pacing his cold cell and going quite mad. And why wasn't he really surprised?

Hunk watched Lotor pace. With his disheveled hair and wild eyes he looked quite insane. After some time though, the prince seemed to literally deflate. He calmed down and sat, He calmed down and sat, observing his limp arm without a word.

"All right," he said at last. "I'll deal with this. Can you remove it?"

"No. The mechanism is too enmeshed: it would incapacitate the arm."

"What about removing the arm itself, then?"

"The arm?" Hunk exclaimed.

"YES, the ugly, cold, despicable arm! Can you make it so I can remove it and put it back on?"

"Weeell, the arm _is _repaired; it sort of goes beyond our agreement..."

"You seem to forget I hold the life of your friend here."

"I'm not forgetting," Hunk ventured. "I could do it, but then I'll ask you to let me bring a few of those tools there."

Lotor smiled.

"Ah, an opportunist I see... I don't have to agree you know."

"No, but then you could... out of the kindness of your heart, eh?" Hunk humored him.

"What heart?" Replied Lotor with sudden anger. "Whatever's left of it is in the princess's hands. And that's as unattainable as a quasar. Take whatever junk you want. There's precious little pleasure left in my life, lion boy, and sleep is part of it. I just wish I could go to bed without the cold thing on. Just do it," he asked.

Some time later, Hunk was showing him how to click the arm on and off. Lotor had that defeated look again. He got up and put on his color-shifting spy cloak. He gestured toward Pidge.

"Can you carry him or would you rather I ask a robot?"

"I'll carry him."

"Then come. I'll show you to your lions."

The pilot delicately began to take hold of Pidge, who stirred and asked were he was.

"It's a long story, buddy. How do you feel?"

"What hit me, the Revenge? I can't see much, where..."

"Your glasses were broken. Can you stand?"

"Well, sorry to interrupt your tender reunion", Lotor said, "but we should go..."

"Lotor!" Pidge exclaimed. "What the heck?"

"I told you it's a long story. Let's say we made a deal. He's letting us go, in theory."

"Put me down, Hunk. I can walk, I think..."

But it developed that he couldn't. He took three steps and became dizzy. Hunk picked him up again, looking in longing to the cool stuff that would stay here. He felt in a hurry, and told himself he didn't want anything from Doom after all. Still, that little laser scalpel... He took it. Lotor smiled. Hunk followed the prince in a maze of corridors. Just as they were about to enter the open hangar were the lions were kept, they saw the Revenge swooping by. It was followed meekly by the 3 other lions.

"Dear father must have used you as bait for their surrender. How about you give them a nasty surprise?"

"For once we're in agreement, Lotor. See, it didn't hurt you..."

"It will when father sees you in flight and holds me responsible."

"Tell him we escaped or something."

"That won't change anything much. But that's my problem. Leave before I change my mind and decide to prove dear father I'm as rotten as him and avoid getting smacked as a reward... By the way, give Allura my regards. Now GO!"

And so they went. Lotor smirked when he saw green lion barely miss the wall of the outer bay. The little one truly couldn't see much without his trademark eyeglasses. But then, when they'd form that gigantic robot he wouldn't need to see. The prince went to a monitor to admire the debacle of his father. For once, he thought it was hilarious. He hadn't such fun in a long time.

Later, Lotor smiled as he confronted his father. Yes, they had escaped, and yes, he'd been too drunk too stop them. He had even taken half a bottle to make his lie more convincing. He was quite tipsy. Tsk. What a shame, in front of his dear father... Lotor actually giggled during Zarkon's ranting. He was thinking: ...captives miraculously escape, Doom ships attack lions, lions form robot, robot destroys ships, robeasts are sent, robot forms F... blazing sword and slices robeast, end of chapter.


	2. 2 Accomplice

1**Accomplice**

Life was just slightly better. Zarkon had quite forgotten the twitch on the bionic arm his wayward son had shown him, so lost he had been in his rage. Maybe he assumed that Hagar had repaired it. Despite having been smacked as he put it, Lotor could now sleep much better. In theory he also had liberty of movement. He simply had to remove the arm and throw it on the sofa. If his father looked at the signal his arm undoubtedly sent, he would assume Lotor was in is room. The prince simply had to avoid being seen.

He decided to test the theory. He would try for another escapade to planet Aris and see if he'd be caught this time... 'As yellow boy would say, thought Lotor, I'll bet my boots I won't be.' He didn't bother with his armor this time. He took instead an old set of clothes. The right sleeve hung uselessly, but curiously he didn't mind that as much as the insectoid appendage. As he didn't intend to be seen, he didn't care if his hair was a mess again. Anyway, his color-shifting cloak hid it. Like a little boy he concealed bundled blankets under his bed sheets, along with the bionic arm. He let the ugly hand poke out. He shaped the mass to look reasonably like a sleeping form and even put an empty bottle near the hand for added realism, should Hagar check his room. An odd sort of excitement washed over him. He escaped, wondering if he would see her.

***** ***** *****

Planet Aris had always mesmerized him. No wonder his father coveted this world. Trees swayed in the soft breeze, and there were flowers everywhere. Allura loved gardening and had the forest near the castle filled with shadow loving plants, ferns, Impatiens and Astilbe, a colorful flower that looked like a fluffed feather. He picked some. His father hadn't caught him, and that confirmed the tracking device theory.

Passing through this forest, you would always come across one of the princess's secret gardens, here a moss arrangement with a cascade, there a wild flower bed. It was enchanting, but none of this compared to the beauty of Allura herself.

Before the fateful "accident" he'd come very often to this place. It still amused him how easily he could evade security. He thought with a smile that if he had put all this ingenuity to work on the plans he devised to crush Voltron, he'd have succeeded long ago. Coming to the edge of the woods, he observed the castle complex.

The palace itself had a boring architecture; it was rather as if the same architect had designed castle doom and this one. Of course castle doom was uglier, but maybe it was just the effect of the light. Doom was lit by a feeble twilight that cut the palace in unlovely gray planes. Here, the rosy glow of the awakening sun gave the structure a magical aura.

The air was fresh and gave him a pleasant sense of being alive. Countless previous visits made the princess's routine quite well known to him. This early in the morning, she would come to tend her garden. The castle's personnel maintained the arrangements in the forests, but this one was mostly hers. She would talk to plants, or even to empty air sometimes; Allura fancied she could see her dead father. She would ask counsel, and listen quite carefully afterwards, as if Alfor was answering. But of course that was ridiculous. If there really was a stray spirit here, the spirit of her father, he would have warned her of his presence. He was the son of his assassin, after all. He wouldn't let him anywhere near his lovely daughter.

The prince had resolved not to show himself. He saw her. For once, she didn't wear her armour or her pink dress. She had a dark blue one, trimmed with cerulean blue lace. And her hair! She hadn't confined it in a tight bun as usual, but instead let it fall on her shoulders, and the dark colour of her dress made it shine as molten gold. Lotor closed his eyes. The sight of her caught him like a blow in the chest. His mind swirled with adoration. A lovesick adolescent, his father had said. He loved her with a passion that nothing could destroy. Staying away from her was a twisted torture. Why did he come here? He must have known he'd only hurt himself.

"Are you playing hide and seek?"

Lotor jumped and swirled around. A young girl stood there, maybe nine or ten years old. Perhaps older. She was looking at him curiously. He hadn't heard her coming, which was very strange, since his hearing was excellent, superior to a human's. She had long black hair, enormous, dark slanted eyes, and such a charming smirk on her impish face that he couldn't help but smile.

He was grateful the veil of his hood made his face invisible; it wouldn't do to terrify her. She'd scream an alert to half the planet. So he simply answered:

"Something like that, yes."

"You're a drule, aren't you? I see your blue hand poke out."

"You're quite clever."

"I know. Ma tells me I'm too smart. Let me guess. You must be one of the refugees, only the drules that were part of the resistance can stay here. You were hurt, too, I see your cape fall strangely on the right side and you wear a spy cloak on a sunny day, with the veil down."

"Half my face was torn off. You wouldn't want to see that, eh?"

"Hmm, no, I'd rather not. No offense meant."

"None taken, little one."

"I'm not Little. My name is Rose."

"What a pretty name. Here, Rose," said Lotor as he gave her his flowers. "I'm a secret admirer of our princess here. Would you carry this to her? I don't want her to see me, and I don't harbor any illusions, but I'd like her to have them."

"Who do I say they're from?"

"Don't. It would... complicate things. "

And, Lotor thought for himself, she'd probably throw them away.

"Be nice," he said to the little girl with a sudden inspiration. "Invent something. Describe me as someone else, someone dashing."

"You want me to lie?"

"Surely an intelligent girl like you can whip up a romantic secret admirer that will make her dream a little, no? I so love to see her happy, and she mustn't like drules too much. She certainly didn't appreciate being pursued by one all those years..."

"You mean prince Lotor, don't you? Ma told me about his love for the princess. I always thought it was a rather sad and romantic thing, you know..."

"Allura doesn't. Please?"

"Oh, all right, I'll say you're a tall guy with his hair to his waist and a beautiful, very white smile. All dressed in black. With _amazing_ eyes."

Lotor smiled as she perfected her creation. He thanked her, truly grateful, and disappeared in the forest. Minutes later, Rose saw the telltale ripple in the air caused by a cloaked ship. She gave him a good five minutes to make his escape, and then got out of the forest to give the flowers to Princess Allura.

"How nice, Rose," she said with a tender smile. "So you still take morning strolls in the forest? You should be careful, you know, sometimes strange people go in those woods."

Allura took the flowers. Astilbe. A good choice, she loved them.

"Thank you, my little Rose," she said.

"Actually, I didn't pick the flowers. They're a gift from prince Lotor."

Allura started.

"He was HERE?"

"Just at the border there," Rose said indifferently. She saw Allura becoming all worried. "He didn't hurt me," she continued. "He didn't even tell me who he was. He was all bundled up in a spy cloak. I sneaked on him..."

"You WHAT? Rose, he's very dangerous! You could have been hurt, or kidnaped!"

"He was just looking at you and he was so intent! I thought at first that he was a castle spy. They look at you like that too... And they wear the same camouflage cloak. I see them every now and them and I love sneaking on them, they think they're so smart. It's fun to see them jump out of their skin. They say I'd make a good spy, too... I saw this guy wasn't one of them when he turned. His hand was blue; he had to be drule..."

"Rose, your very cleverness will put you in big trouble one of these days. You must promise to be careful. And no more ridiculing my spies, ok?"

"Ok..."

Allura saw the little girl's smug expression and didn't believe her at all. She sighed. She had to go to the morning practice. She was also irritated. If a thirteen years old kid, no matter how clever, could sneak on her spies she needed to have the whole system seriously checked. She would ask Coran to see to it. Rose had that charming little smirk that reminded her of something, but she couldn't place it.

"I should box your ears, you know? Nanny will have a fit! I have to go now. I don't want you to go back in the woods. He could still be there."

"Naw, I saw his ship. It was cloaked, but did you ever notice how cloaked ships make the air currents move weird? Just like when it's very hot. He left all right."

"Nevertheless, I'll escort you home. Come with me, young brainstorm."

Allura took her by the arm and brought her in the palace. The little lady wasn't fazed at all.

"Where's your pink dress?" She asked.

"In a trash can. Pink was ok when I was a teenager. Besides it was falling apart. Nanny will probably have yet another one made, but a girl can try..."

"Ma must have thrown a fit! That's a good move. You look much better in that awesome, sinister dark blue. It makes your hair shine so! You must have blasted his neurons."

"Rose!"

Rose noted with a bit of amusement that Allura was still holding the flowers. She graciously let the princess lead her to Ma. Of course Nanny wasn't really her Ma. Her real mother had been killed in the war, and her father, even though he was a noble, was such a drunkard and a loser that the formidable Queen of the Servants had taken her under her wing. She spent all her time there now, and Ma was Nanny's new, sarcastic nickname. She was such a moralist... lecturing was her favorite activity. Rose would have sworn she had a parallel brain. She could do any action and keep on lecturing regardless. She was quite certain that Ma could play chess while lecturing. Rose had developed the "sure and unhum" technique. You threw one every now and then and she'd think you were actually listening. She was using this technique now with the princess.

Rose loved living in the castle. She liked all of the Voltron Force, but her particular favorite was Lance. He played such daring and hilarious practical jokes... He told her countless stories of his wild days before the fall of Doom. The joke of the sexy black dress he had forced Allura to wear on a ball still made her laugh. Lance just had no shame. He said things that made the others turn beet red. The antics of the Voltron team made Rose howl with laughter. (Author: Not Mine, all credit to the respective authors. For those stories go to the short stories in the Beyond Denubian, they're cool)

Ma wasn't there when she got home. The Queen of Castle Servants was undoubtedly lecturing a poor employee somewhere in the castle. Rose said bye to Allura and sat. She thought again of the prince. As soon as he had turned she had known it was Lotor. She analyzed clues like a miniature computer. The missing right arm, the spy cloak, this gazing at the princess... She was also pretty sure he wouldn't hurt Allura, since he could have done it already. He was just there to watch and dream. She decided to get immersed in serious cartoon watching. It would bring him out of her mind, for she couldn't stop thinking about the encounter. He'd had such a sad voice. Now there was someone who wouldn't laugh at any story, no matter how funny. She sighed and turned on the 3D platform.


	3. 3 Escapades

1**Escapades**

In the following weeks, Lotor came very often on Aris. He met little Rose in the woods. She took her stroll every morning, and as far as he knew she maintained the charade of the tall secret admirer.

Being able to move around undetected like this made him giddy with pleasure. He would travel to various worlds to find lavish gifts, rare flowers, jewelry, and marvelous gowns. How he would love to see his beloved in the deep purple one, with that wonderful lizard-shaped broach he'd found on Vh'taï. He loathed pink and carefully avoided anything in that shade. For him, pink was the very symbol of everything that formed an obstacle between them. The only pink item he bought was an irresistibly beautiful, pale bird that the vendor had assured him could talk. He brought the bird to Rose, golden cage and all.

His small accomplice was as spellbinding as Allura in her own way. She would tell him stories that actually made him smile, a rare treat. He gloated a lot when he fought the Voltron force, but this was different. It was a peaceful and worry free smile. She showed him all the beautiful gardens. Of course, Lotor had been here so often before he could have drawn a map, but it was so pleasant when she took his hand and pulled him to supposed new discoveries.

What she loved most of all was evading the castle spies. She knew them all and even gave them nicknames.

"Here, behind that pile of rock hides Pink Mammoth," she would whisper. "He's conspicuous and he breathes just as loudly, that's for sure! And about fifty metres to the left you'll find Fidget. He moves constantly. It makes his spy cloak blur, you can spot him a kilometre away."

Lotor knew them and their pattern, but it always amused him to find out how the little ferret called them. It also delighted him to hear the tales of the worse blunders each Voltron team members had done.

Sometimes, they would just walk in the enchanted forest, admiring it in the dappled light of the morning. They had a good agreement. When it rained, they had a place in a hollow tree were he would leave the gift, and Rose would pick it up later. When it didn't, they would meet and she'd have a new story. They would walk in the filtered light of the forest, delighting in the progress of the gardens, spotting birds and cloaked spies. Sometimes Rose found him in his favourite spot, from where he gazed at his love humming to herself in her sun drenched garden. Rose would tease him, tell him how Ma had another pink dress made for Allura, and didn't she look better in that awesome dark blue? They would argue about just what shade made her golden hair shine best. He would ask her a million questions, what Allora had for breakfast, did she like this or that gift. He knew the ferret probably invented on the spot more then half of what she told him, but he loved it all the same. Then he would leave and return to the cold and dismal castle Doom, to brood in his sofa.

***** ***** *****

This time it was raining heavily and the forest was dripping veils of gray water. The visibility was poor and the ground slippery. In spite of his colour-shifting cloak, the prince was cold and shivering by the time he made it to the hollow tree. He left his gift and hurried back to the comfort of his ship. For an inexplicable reason he felt very nervous. The forest seemed menacing in this weak, colourless light. The very flowers turned their face to the ground, beaten by the steady fall of frigid water. He fancied he saw shapes moving everywhere.

He suddenly understood that it was no fancy. Those moving shapes were men wearing spy cloaks as he was. Seeing his way forward was blocked, he calmly veered to the right, then jumped behind a pile of rocks. The spies realized immediately they'd been seen, and opened fire. Lotor started to flee. They had to contour the pile, and with the rain, it was hard to spot their target, even though he was running. They lost him for a moment and then he was seen. The lucky spy aimed carefully and shot.

"Got him!" He cried as he saw the blurred shape tumble.

Then it disappeared again as the wind pushed the raindrops in their faces.

"Where the hell is he?" Cried one of the spies

"Fan out!" Ordered the one who seemed the leader.

He didn't know by what miracle he hadn't cried out. The shot had passed clear through his right shoulder. By sheer luck it hadn't damaged the artificial arm's anchor. He ran, driven mad by the pain. He surmised his ship had been found, and felt sure they'd eventually catch him since he had nowhere to go now. Still, not knowing why exactly, he fled through the woods, coming to areas he'd never seen before, hearing the cries of the soldiers behind him. That warm wetness spreading with alarming speed had to be his own blood. Perhaps he would die... that would solve all his problems rather neatly, he thought his an odd longing. He lost track of time. It seemed the cold wind driven rain and the very world was becoming unreal, and he ran on. The sense of being removed from reality became even stronger when he came to a glade. Here the light had an eerie golden cast to it, and It felt sacred somehow. He laughed hysterically before what he saw, thinking he'd lost his mind. Right in front of him was the green lion. Either he hallucinated, or sheer luck had brought him right to the lair of the mechanical beast. Its eyes were shiny and through his odd madness he even imagined that they looked benevolent. 'Well, it's a ship and I happen to need one rather badly.'

He could not recall how he made it into the cockpit. He didn't understand either why the lion didn't simply throw him out. He had stolen lions before and learned then that they were inhabited by a living spirit. Perhaps green lion's resident ghost wasn't in. He let go of his shoulder and looked in amazement at his bloodied hand. Had he been shot at? He couldn't remember. He plotted a course for castle Doom and took off with the lion. He wondered idly why the thing even worked at all, since he didn't have the key. Bloodied water fell down on the seat, and collected on the floor.

He came in and out of consciousness, and in his lucid moments wondered how he was going to explain this to Zarkon. He could always say he'd been on Aris to steal the lion and prove himself, but that left out the arm. He'd have to find some way to reach his room, put the damned appendage back on. When he had left, several hours ago, his father had been gone.

For once fortune seemed on his side. When he finally reached castle Doom, no one was there. He somehow half climbed, half fell out of the ship, and went to the infirmary. He was leaving a steady trail of drops behind him. He met two drones and put them to work. One was to get his arm, the other had to clean the mess. He still had enough presence of mind to order them to self destruct afterwards in some hidden corner. He reached the infirmary on pure adrenalin, and literally fell in the arms of the waiting medbot.

***** ***** *****

"HE WHAT?" Cried Keith furiously.

"Well," said the spy leader miserably, looking at the floor, "he... eh...took off with green lion."

"How the hell did he get the key?"

"He didn't," said Pidge. "The key is right here with me."

"How can that be?" Asked Allora.

"We'll sort it out later," said Keith. "Let's go after him."

They ran into green lion as the robot ship was heading back to Aris. There was no pilot.

***** ***** *****

He awoke some time later. His artificial arm was neatly tucked beside him, and his shoulder bandaged. The medbot had not covered the anchor, not knowing what to do with the mechanical part of his patient. It hovered on idle, bobbing up and down. Lotor sat and clicked his arm in. He felt awful but he had to find out what had transpired while he was out. When he stumbled to the open hangar, he saw that the green lion was gone. He stared in amazement. Perhaps the others had come to get it. The castle was still empty. He wouldn't have to improvise a story after all. He'd just have to pretend he'd been here on his sofa all the time. Hiding the injury would be difficult, it hurt like fire, but he had no choice. He realized with chagrin that since the spies were on to him now, his joy filled escapades were over.


	4. 4 Descent

1I humbly ask for indulgence. I'm having a bit of trouble figuring how it works. I have a bunch of chapters I need to format, It isn't a big deal so you'll have them fairly rapidly. But then, I have a big hole in the story because my computer fried, and my last back up didn't have those. Oh well, at least I had made a back up . . .

So these chapters will trickle one by one as I have to rewrite them.

I enabled anonymous reviews when I saw it wasn't enabled by default. I read fanfiction for years and reviewed them but didn't want to have an account until recently. I think all readers should be able to review, however, I'm flame sensitive, so please make feedback constructive criticism.

Again, I don't own Voltron, I'm playing with the characters and I promise to put them back in the box mostly intact when I'm through. (Love this disclaimer, didn't invent it, don't know who did though.)

This first part of the story is angstsy, but I didn't put angst in the style. It evolves. Eventually. Those who hate angst, be patient. Those who enjoy it, rejoice, it gets worse before it gets better. There will be a bit of everything. This is shaping up as a saga. But yes, at the beginning Lotor will mope a lot, and then . . . not telling!

The fic is Lotor-centric, but don't worry, other characters will have their spotlight. It takes a while though, so don't give up.

**4- Descent**

Several months later, Lotor was daydreaming in his bed, all curled up. His father was calling again. He got up in supreme indifference and dragged himself along the corridors to do the bidding of the fossil. His shoulder still hurt. His mind brought him back to his little friend on Aris. He missed his trips to the various markets in the galaxy and his walks into the woods, quietly listening to the insufferably cute little imp. To have lost his secret escapades and the possibility of showering his love with wonders had been the last straw. It had broken something fundamental in him, even though he didn't suspect how profound the change was.

What a delicious little girl, he thought with a dreamy smile. He was supposed to be the destroyer of people like that. To enslave them and use them. He had been raised to hate all non-drules. Maybe that why was he despised himself, he was, after all, only half drule. He always wore the colour-shifting cloak now, and soft clothes: they were so much more comfortable, not to mention concealing.

Of late his father had plotted more intently then he usually did, for once using small ships and computers. His son was happy since he had left him mostly alone. Lotor knew Zarkon was still an influential figure in many governments, and in the past few weeks he had strengthened his reseau. The ex-monarch held the strings of many puppets. That's how they remained filthy rich and could replace lost material. A shipment would bring them every toy they needed. Zarkon just had to call certain allies and they'd be flooded with goods from all over the galaxy. While they didn't lack anything, the palace was empty and filled with gloom. The prince hated to think about what lurked in its bowels. He hated the prepared food they had, and he had lost his appetite some time ago. He had also stopped exercising and taking his supplements. What was the point of having his muscles blown up like a bodybuilder? It only emphasized what was missing. And he certainly wouldn't seduce anyone.

He was now quite thin and wasted, and his light armour didn't even fit anymore. To keep his father distracted from the relatively rapid change he hid himself in the spy cloak. It made his shape disappear. The little quiet thought would resurface every now and then: there were so many quick ways to get rid of oneself . . . now don't go there, he admonished himself. Just don't.

In the middle of his musings he finally got to the meeting room. Zarkon and Hagar were waiting for him.

"Your hair is a mess. You should take more pride in it or shave it. We have a new plan, and this one won't fail!" Claimed Zarkon.

Lotor smiled. I wish I'd have a device to tell us how many times one of us said that, he thought. While Zarkon underlined a new strategy, his son only half listened, paying attention only on his part of the proceedings. It involved an attack on planet Ameda, and the stealing of some magical artifact. He was to provide a diversion with the Revenge by launching a furious attack on one of their major cities. For once the pirates weren't there, so he'd have to fly the ship with mechanical copilots.

***** ***** *****

It felt good to be alone in his great ship, followed by a robot fleet of a few thousands. Maybe he could fly to the confines of the galaxy. But then, surely his dearest father had some way to track the Revenge as well as his son. However that gave him a bizarre idea, one that gave him a startled smile; if he were to put his artificial arm in a programmed ship, his father would probably think he was actually flying the thing. He stashed this idea for later.

On an impulse he decided he'd fire at a desert. The weird manoeuver would still bring the army on him. He was only supposed to provide a diversion, after all. Killing thousands was quite useless. It was a harmless way to provoke their fleet into pursuing him. Maybe they would even call the Voltron Force to the rescue. Weren't the celebrated explorers the Defenders of the Universe? Let's test the manoeuverability of the Revenge, he thought with a smirk. Lets throw a few more robeasts at them, so I can have fun watching them sliced.

He realized of course that this type of reasoning was quite new to him. Oh, he had always loved it when his father was humiliated, but never with such a ferocious intensity. He had to resist the impulse to take the fossil by the shoulders and shake him while screaming: "We LOST, you fool! We're finished. The only army we have left is stupid robot ships and two stupid, paid pirates. No slaves, no trappings of powers save for this empty monstrosity of a castle. You're just dragging it! Wake up! We LOST!"

Maybe he was going insane at last. He couldn't stop the raging flow of conflicting emotions that constantly warred in his overloaded mind. Why, even now, from one minute to the other, he'd felt crushing sadness, blind rage and amusement, all flickering madly in no particular order. While some might think that insanity was a refugee, he knew that it only hurt. Maybe he was the one who was just dragging it.

Let's blow a few million tons of sand, he thought as amusement kicked away his sadness again. Bringing the Revenge in a swooping arc, he started to blow up cacti. Clouds of sand made a spectacular show in the intense light of the Ameda sun. He was close enough to a city to make them worry. Well, a little sandstorm was far better than being blown to bits . . . Taking their cue, ships came on him like lice on a sick dog. He had his fun doing some fancy flying with the Revenge in the gigantic Ameda canyons, and then he flew upward, pulling the conflict out of the atmosphere. There, his robot fleet greeted the pursuing army and he took a little break by standing behind it.

He reflected, still amused, how silly robot armies were. They could have much better programming. They stupidly kept the battle on a rather flat field, as if they were warring on the ground. If they used space in a 3D manner, they could sink or go up, taking all the opportunities an empty space provided*. He had kept this particular strategy along with countless others for when he'd be king, but he realized suddenly that he just didn't believe in it anymore.

Then they showed up. Voltron. His nemesis, his archenemies and his only love. For once he didn't feel like fighting. If Hagar and dear father hadn't pulled off their little caper by now, then they were even more hopeless then he. He launched a few robeasts to keep them entertained and just left, not bothering to watch that part.

He had traveled only about half an hour when an impish voice intruded.

"Leaving so soon, Lotor? Usually you stay at the party until you're kicked out..."

Lance. Doubtless the others were there too... but how had they linked a transmission like this? Suddenly his screen changed from the space view to a weird five parted vision of the Voltron team.

"Pretty neat, heh? Compliments of our cyber wizard Pidge here."

Lotor paled when he realized that they could probably see him as well! And his cloak was draped on the back of his seat. His fear was confirmed when he saw the princess take a sharp intake of air, and Lance quipped:

"My, Lotor! Where's the other half of you? Your dad put you on bread and water?"

"You shouldn't be intruding like this," he fumed. "I'm supposed to be the one with bad manners here."

"Are you ill?" Asked Allura with a strange worry in her voice.

"What does it matter to any of you?" He cried furiously as he recognized pity. "You came to blast me to pieces again, well do your best, but spare me the snooping."

He fired on all the cameras on the bridge. There. So, they got rid of his robeasts already. On an impulse again he thought it'd be fun to throw them a bone and take them off his back. And sic them on dear father. He knew they could still hear him.

"Besides, you have the wrong quarry. I just blasted sand and a couple million tons of junk. What do you imagine was the purpose of that? I think you should have monitored departing ships a little more closely... I'm just the fall guy here, as Lance pointed out the other day. If I were you, I'd call the planet to see what transpired. And no, I won't tell you more, because I don't know more. Goodbye now, I have an appointment with a sofa."

Then he sent his ship in hyperspace. Some time later, his father sent a call.

"Why can't I see you?" He demanded.

"A slight malfunction."

"Never mind. We escaped easily, but what I want to know is WHY YOU FIRED AT A DESERT?"

"I missed," said Lotor. And he started to laugh a little hysterically as he fired at the comm.

***** ***** *****

A small stealth ship was bringing back Zarkon and Hagar. Within, the witch gloated over a light blue stone that seemed to pulse with its own life giving light. Zarkon sighed.

"I swear that boy is becoming insane."

"He's just depressed, Zarkon. We should kidnap that little turkey of his and sit her on his lap until he's happy."

"How can he put himself in such a state over anyone? It makes no sense at all."

It wouldn't, thought Hagar, not to you. She turned away, gazing at the stars.

Her eyes widened as she saw the gigantic robots flying toward them.

"Zarkon!"

"I see them. Do something!"

"Well, we'll try our new gadget, your Majesty," she cackled.

Then her voice became much softer, almost hypnotizing, as she started to chant. Zarkon had never heard her use that tone of voice before. The language was incomprehensible, and he stared at her in amazement. The old crone was always full of surprises. The jewel seemed to expend, and it's light now engulfed the entire ship. Then she returned to her normal tones, and continued with her habitual litany of bad poetry. The light changed to a furious shade of violet.

"Now fire on them," your Highness.

He obliged and was rewarded when he saw that the violet light enclosed his laser beam as well, and that it created an explosion on impact! Zarkon laughed in delight. It left yellow lion with a jagged gash, all rimmed in flames. What a truly beautiful sight, he thought.

He continued to fire, slashing through the robot like a red-hot knife through butter.

In the Voltron team, everyone was aghast. It passed clear through all their defences.

"Hunk, are you all right?" Called the Commander.

"Yeah, I'm ok, but the lion is not!"

"We don't know what we're facing here. I hate to give this command, but let's retreat!"

"Where to, boss?" Asked Lance, and for once he forgot to argue.

"Home! The lions need repairs and we need to know more about this stone that Zarkon stole. Then we'll be able to plan."

Zarkon laughed his maniacal despot's laugh when he saw Voltron flee. His ego was now comfortably inflated. They had truly made his day. He thought about pursuit, but knew his ship wasn't fast enough. Still, he sighed in pleasure and directed his ship toward the castle Doom. When it came in sight, he saw the Revenge was already there. He asked Hagar to locate Lotor and could see him in the image she conjured. He had a bottle and he was sprawled AGAIN on his half-demolished sofa. Zarkon resolved to ban alcohol on the next shipment that would be brought in.

***** ***** *****

In truth, Zarkon had just made his second grievous error. The first one had been to ignore the malfunctioning arm. The second was to deprive Lotor of evasion through his "anaesthetic". It left the prince no reprieve at all. As Zarkon made plans to use his new found power, he completely neglected his son, and saw him only when he summoned him to bark orders and sent him to fetch or attack. He never questioned the fact that Lotor never protested, never talked back, or never gloated anymore. Zarkon thought it was a relief. At last he was always sober and he obeyed without complaint. His hair was combed and he did look sinister with this cloak. Perhaps he'd amount to something after all.

Hagar was too occupied trying to control the formidable energies the stone released. White magic was so hard to tame. Zarkon constantly plagued her to hurry up. He really wanted to use this new weapon on a planetary scale, but she wasn't sure that she would be able to control the stone once she'd find a way to multiply it's sphere of influence. As for the pirates, they minded their own business. So no one truly saw Lotor's descent. And no one noticed how truly serene and beautiful his half face had become when he took his decision.

From there, he started a frenzy of activity. He went on a new escapade and bought a used smuggler ship, small, not heavily armed, but with state of the art cloaking capacity. He renamed it Sunset. He also bought a gift for Rose.

He then developed and constructed a new model of spying device, one of the ideas he'd kept for his never-coming reign. They resembled moths, about two and a half inches wide. Even though such spying robots already existed, they all had cameras, which made them much bigger. Lotor didn't need an image for this purpose. He just needed to find out what was the new pattern of the Arisian castle spies.

The machines were tiny and looked like the real thing. He coloured them in the same patterned gray as a species of moth on Aris. When immobile on the bark of a tree, they became virtually invisible.

He paid the pirate Lafitte to fly to Aris and free the moths in a remote area. They would fly the rest of the way, choose a particular tree, and stay put to record some data. His spy moths tracked heat, then recorded its path as a curve. It was able to distinguish size and dismiss birds and small animals. He analysed the data from the castle. In a few days he had acquired enough information to be able to return to Aris one last time.

Then, alone in his room, he brought back on its legs his writing table and rummaged through his old things. He soon found it: a calligraphy pen and some ink. The ink had dried. He mixed it with water and let it sit for the night. His plan would be delayed, but that didn't matter really. He wasn't in a hurry. After the best sleep he'd had in weeks, he found some paper, sat again at his writing table and began:

"My love..."

He took his time. He wrote three letters. He then programmed a course for his father's most precious small stealth ship. He would steal Zarkon's new weapon and stash it in. It would put the fossil in a blinding rage! He designed a merry chase for whoever was going to try to follow the thing. He programmed the stealth ship to use a sun's gravity to gather speed several times, pass through obscure and enormous gas formations, ice fields, and land for a couple of minutes on planets filled with crags and canyons, then head straight for the middle of nowhere. He made the tracking of this ship a true nightmare. He smiled: a trip designed to be a horror filled adventure for the fossil and his witch. He knew the forms of energy that would block the witch's power, and modified the stealth ship to irradiate an appropriate shield.

Then, he waited. When Zarkon and Hagar were otherwise occupied, he stole the blue stone. He removed his bionic arm with its tracking device, and put it in the pilot's seat of the stealth ship. He put the stone on the floor and a letter in the fake hand.

Smiling, he got out of the stealth ship and sent the launching sequence script from a computer. Let his father think he was betraying him by leaving with his precious pet weapon. The fossil would be sure to throw a fit and follow, to catch and punish his wayward son.

Lotor laughed when he saw the Revenge some time later, taking the same direction as the small craft carrying his arm and the stone. Then the prince departed castle Doom in the newly named Sunset. He didn't look back.

***** ***** *****

* I admit, this observation about the use of space in combat was made by Khan in from the Star Trek film "The Wrath of Khan".


	5. Chapter 5

1Voltron and its characters aren't mine. Allura wouldn't always wear pink it they were. Pink is ok, I guess, but a little variety wouldn't hurt. The white spacesuits would go. Nanny would be a believable character. (In this fic, she is an ok person.)

**5- Sunset**

Rose was taking her stroll as usual. The sun was very bright on this spring dawn. It was going to be warm, and the millions of flowers in the trees would burst open this very day, releasing their scent. She had soon figured out the new pattern of the spies. They had five separate strategies, and they picked them at random. To know which was the pattern of the day, she just had to spot one of them.

Pink Mammoth is in that group of trees, its pattern number three. Or Fidget is in tree x, pattern number two. This morning she had not spotted any yet. That meant pattern one. She would meet Marble in a couple of kilometres.

But then, she saw the telltale shadow of a spy cloak. Now that one didn't belong there at all! Perhaps they had a number six now, but she didn't think so. Their boss was pretty unimaginative. She smiled in delight. The prince had returned!

"Hello!"

"Good morning Rose," answered the cloaked figure, rising from his post. He had a rather big bag this time. "I knew you would spot me," he said. "We have a little more then half an hour before a spy passes this way again, is that correct?"

"Yep, it is... What wonders have we today?"

"Well, today you'll have the honour of being the first person I'll apologize to since I was ten."

"What for?"

Lotor was very near to her now. He threw a powder in her face. Immediately, she became utterly limp. She could still see and hear, but she couldn't move a muscle, save for her eyelids. Lotor gently caught her as she fell and laid her down on the moss. He removed his hood, and got out the biggest item from his bag: another spy cloak. He enveloped her in it.

"That's what for, flower. I'll bet you knew all along who I was, didn't you, little ferret? You are so very sharp. That's why I had to find some way to delay you. I need a good head start, and I'm afraid you're smart enough to guess my purpose. There," he said as he finished tucking her in the cloak. "This will keep you warm. Don't be afraid, it won't last very long, just about an hour. You'll be perfectly all right. I'm sorry. Here. I'll show you what I need this time."

He showed her a box.

"This one is for Allura. It's my laser sword. I don't want Zarkon to have it, it came from my mother's side. She can either keep it or destroy it. I don't care either way, just so long as father doesn't have it."

He had been right. Rose guessed immediately what was happening and tears leaked out of her dark eyes.

"This one is for you. In the red package are cubes filled with everything I could gather from father's databases. In those scroll cases, there are letters. The blue one is for Allura. The black is for the Voltron Force."

He gently brushed her tears away.

"I assure you I'm not worth it, little ferret. But if it can help at all, I've never been at peace ever since the crash. I know should have died. I'm just correcting a mistake."

He turned his face toward the sun.

"A sunset from real close must be very beautiful. Not to mention liberating... I'm just setting myself free."

He smiled at her, put his hand to his lips, then to her forehead, covered her entirely with the cloak and simply left. Rose was desperate! In her mind she screamed and screamed "Help! Don't let it happen! Somebody help"

**** **** ****

Allura was tending her garden as usual when a cold shift in the air told her she had company. Ghosts were just plain cold, and no matter how much they loved you, they always made you shiver. She turned and smiled at her father. Her smile disappeared as she saw he looked alarmed and was pointing toward the forest.

Suddenly feeling a great sense of urgency, she ran in the direction he indicated. She noticed a wave in the air currents, just like Rose had described. A cloaked ship escaping! She ran even faster and came into the forest.

She couldn't see anything out of the ordinary, but the silhouette of her father was standing and pointing resolutely at an empty spot. She approached and saw a shadow that came out of nowhere. Only one thing could throw shadows without being seen. She opened the spy cloak and found Rose all bundled in it, with boxes and scrolls around her. It soon became evident that she couldn't move. Allura called for help. 'Hurry up,' thought Rose helplessly, 'hurry up!'

It seemed to take forever for them to carry her in the medwing, where they gave her something to brake her lethargy. She immediately tried to talk, even though everyone told her to relax, that she was safe. She managed at last to be coherent.

"It's Lotor! He's going to fly his ship into the sun!" She cried.

"What?"

"These are farewell letters! Open the blue box, Allura, you'll see! I'm sure! He practically told me! He said something about a sunset."

Allura opened the blue box and found the familiar, ornate laser sword. She immediately called her companions.

**** **** ****

As he had thought, it was truly beautiful. He was close now. The ship's cloak had fallen, and the life support had begun to fail. The shield was inexplicably still holding, but that would soon fail too. He was hot, but he didn't mind. The heat made him relaxed and limp. When the shield would go down, he'd be reduced to atoms in a split second. He wouldn't feel anything. He was utterly at peace. He smiled when he thought of the face Zarkon would make when he'd finally catch up with his bionic arm, thousands of light-years away.

He had known it wouldn't be so bad. He could see only the flames now, and their swirling dance was entrancing. He could feel himself slip away. That dark spot... what was it? But it didn't matter really, and he gratefully welcomed a velvet dark sleep.

"I got him guys," announced Lance. "But he must be fried to a crisp in there."

Red lion was best equipped to handle the sun this close. Lance was truly amazed the tiny smuggler ship had made it this far. They had picked its trace when the cloaking device had failed. The others were at a safe distance, and they all hurried back to Aris.

**** **** ****

He awoke. How could he awaken? That was flat impossible. He hurt all over, how could that be if he was dead? Perhaps hell existed after all. He wanted to scream, but his prone body refused to comply. He slipped again into darkness.

**** **** ****

Rose was seated at his side, holding his hand. They kept him sedated. She stayed with him and told him stories in a voice as steady as she could manage, just in case he didn't sleep, but was paralysed like she had been. He was her secret friend, and they'd had such fun together...

Later, Rose gasped when she opened her box. It was a rose, its petals made of a shining and translucent material she had never seen before. The petals were blue on the outside, and the purest white within, and when you held it to the light you could see the blue in an intricate pattern of veins. The slim stem was made of velvet like green material and the leaves were set with emeralds. It was exquisite. It had lots of sharp thorns. Lotor had told her once that she was a pretty Rose, but she had thorns like a shark's teeth. That he was sure glad they were not enemies. He had asked her, since she gave nicknames to everyone behind their back, what was his? Snow, she had answered. She had told him that he should be more careful, because every now and then a white lock would fall out of his hood.

**** **** ****

"Its not that bad," said the doctor. "Physically, that is. It's mostly heat stroke. There's a badly healed wound that will need some attention. We'll wait for him to recover, gather a little strength and then we'll remodel that right shoulder. Whoever did this was a butcher. We can have something much more sophisticated, with your Majesty's permission..."

"Of course, Doctor," said Allura. "When do you think he'll wake up?"

"Not before we decide."

Allura sighed, relieved. That would give her some time to think about this mess. What the hell was she going to do? She could not send him back to Zarkon, and it somehow didn't feel right to send him to Bastille 12. The place had driven him to insanity. Besides, Zarkon had controlled it for years, and she didn't believe that they had cleaned the place properly. Maybe she could get the Alliance to show leniency in view of the information Lotor had procured them. Pidge was still sorting it out. If she asked for the custody of the prince, she'd probably get it, but was it the right thing to do? She was very confused, and as always in such moments her garden seemed the best place to find answers.

She thought it would be a good time to be surrounded by friends, and she called a meeting in her garden. She had the black scroll case with her and played with it as she sat waiting for them. By now the sun was low on the horizon, and it fringed every single new leaf with golden light. She was gazing at the colourful sky when they arrived.

"I think we should read this," she said. "It may contain important information. Commander, would you?"

"Certainly, Princess."

He took the scroll and got the letter out. It read:

" My dearest enemies. I hope that you rejoice in having lost a player in our little game. It just wasn't fun anymore and our side lost quite some time ago. Why father persists in dragging it is beyond me. At the beginning, I thought his mad caper might actually work, that he would have his empire back and that I would eventually get what I desired most. But just one look in a mirror was enough to show me it was quite impossible. It made everything rather pointless, something I realized that when I was finally able to sit down and think through my rage.

I am not a computer wizard and father protected his files. But I copied everything I could. That should make your job easier. Father has been strengthening his reseau of corrupted politicians and I believe he is preparing a coup on Vh'taï. I'm sorry I can't tell you more, but I never was his confidant. Still, you have the proper codes to hack into his system, and your Pidge should pull it off.

We are filthy rich, so you might try to trace Zarkon's financial resources. There was only one account I could have access to and I included the code for that, but he has dozens of others. Since you'll have access to my fortune, steal it. When father's back he'll be sure to block the account. Don't waste time and empty it.

I would like this money transferred to whatever charity is helping drule refugees. That way dear father will have made at least one gesture to help his lost people. That will infuriate him and it should make Allura smile. I can at least give you that much, my love, can't I?

By now father knows I escaped. I put my arm and its tracking device in a ship programmed for a little trip through hell. I added the blue magical stone to give him some real motivation to follow. He is chasing it now. Just imagine his face when he finds the ugly thing perched in the pilot seat... Hagar still hasn't figured a way to enlarge the stone's sphere of influence, but she eventually will. From what she said, she encapsulated the white magic it contains with black magic. That implies she knows some white magic, which I found rather unbelievable. It made me wonder what her story is. But it doesn't matter now. By the time you read this, I shall be happily sleeping.

I have only two regrets: you can figure the first one for yourself. As for the second, I truly wanted to avenge the murder of my mother. I always suspected father. I wanted to take Zarkon's place so I could crush him like an insect for what he did to her. But I failed her. I had two goals in my life and I realize I'll never attain either of them. I must use this rare moment of lucidity to repair destiny's blunder. Do not underestimate father. He's up to something. You should be very careful in your future battles. I was always trying not to harm Allura, but Igor or whoever will take my place will not have this weakness.

I wish to thank Hunk for having made it possible for me to enjoy a few months of freedom. I hope he likes his laser scalpel. Rose also helped me but I'm sure you can see it wasn't done with evil intent. I wish to thank her, as well, for having shed a little light in my dark universe.

Farewell."

"If anyone had told me that Lotor would someday bring me to tears," said Hunk in a husky voice, "I'd have laughed in his face."

"I'll look into what he said about the money," Pidge said softly. "If we could stop the money flow or at least spy on it, that would certainly pull the rug from under Zarkon's feet."

"And we should investigate the Vh'taï angle," said Lance. "I'm used to those smuggler's haven planets. I can volunteer for that."

"And I'll go as well to keep an eye on you," said Keith, smiling at his adventure-seeking friend.

"But what will we do with Lotor?" Asked Allura. "I would welcome suggestions..."

Nobody seemed to have a proper answer for that. By now the sky was a star filled dark indigo and only a fiery strip of colour remained. A truly beautiful sunset, they thought.


	6. In the Dead of the Night

1Hello all! It's in this chapter that I really began to have fun with the other characters. I don't remember if Lance was quite so impish in the series, but he's one of my favourites, because he showed a lot of courage despite having lots of reasons to be sad. I remember he was very insightful, so I worked that trait in the story. Keith has cute problems in this one, but don't worry. He won't ever give up on Allura, not in this fic!

**6- In the dead of the night**

Vh'taï was a relatively small planet. Its resources were strained by years of overexploitation. The ozone layer was thin, and the large and numerous cities were covered to protect them from the sun. Within, the recycled air was a reeking miasma. There were throngs of creatures everywhere you looked. It was like Lance had described, a smuggler haven. You could see the most fantastic array of different species, but in spite of the variety they all had the shifty eyed look that one associates with shady characters.

The city was dirty, and so were it's inhabitants, it seemed, at least in their disposition. The buildings looked neglected and were covered in a gray dust that leeched colours. The city was in a dull monochrome. Keith was a little disgusted. He was used to the clear, luminous tints of Aris. He had comments on the strange black and white scenery.

"The people themselves quite make up for that lack, though," observed Lance, "they have distinctly colourful personalities . . . "

He and Keith were worming their way through the mass. They wore grey concealing clothes that made them look part of the scenery, and more then half the populace was likewise bundled up. They were heading to a place where the adventuresome Lance had been before. It made Keith wonder what the hell Lance had been doing in the few years of peace. He certainly seemed familiar with the local fauna.

They finally made it to a nondescript building that didn't even have a sign. Lance went in confidently and Keith saw that there was nothing there but a hall, rather old looking, with an ancient elevator at its extremity. An enormous reptile stood there, and it didn't look too bright. It was lazily sweeping the filthy floor with a broom that had seen better days.

"What do you want?" It slurred in interplanetary lingo.

"Surely you remember the Stray," drawled Lance in a suave voice, the voice of an accomplished con artist. Keith looked at him in amazement.

"Ah! Stray, it's you," said the reptile, suddenly looking ferociously intelligent. "You know you're responsible for anyone you bring in, brother."

"Yep, no sweat, Leone here is my associate. "

"Well, up you go. Have a care, Stray, some important people here tonight..."

"Thanks, bro, but I already knew that."

"Pfah! Of course you did."

The rather frightful beast operated the elevator that brought them to the seventh floor. They came out and Keith got a sense of unreality. They stepped in a very modern bar, a huge and luxurious place with fountains, statues, and plants. Tables dotted the bright, silvery floor, and sexy servants scurried to please the clients. One huge table was elevated on a kind of dais. This one was empty. The atmosphere reeked. It was a bizarre mix of smoke and perfumes, and of course what smells good to one species stank for the next. The people here are nose blind, Keith decided. He felt slightly nauseous. Lance did all the talking, and a very dignified looking major-domo that looked somewhat like an ostrich brought them to a secluded spot. The Commander sat gratefully, wondering if the fact that his face was green made him conspicuous. He was vaguely aware that Lance ordered something and paid in advance.

"Relax, 'Leone'," Lance told him. "You look like a tourist. "

A servant had arrived with two servings of a colourful concoction, with some unknown vegetable poking out. Keith eyed his drink suspiciously.

"Try it, it's quite good actually."

"It won't roll me under the table?"

"Nope, I ordered non alcoholic drinks. We need to stay sharp."

Keith tried and found it quite refreshing. It actually settled his queasiness. Lance was observing him with a smug expression. The look said "Yeah I've been here before and no I won't tell you under what circumstance." The Lance look that always made you hesitate between irritation and amusement. "Stray" indeed... Keith scowled and Lance smiled all the more. Feeling a little more secure Keith finally began to observe his surroundings.

***** ***** *****

Aris

He felt very comfortable. He could hear voices, but he ignored them and left his eyes resolutely closed. He was dead, no? He shouldn't hear anything and he certainly couldn't consciously keep nonexistent lids firmly shut. One of the voices sounded quite academic, and he helplessly listened as it explained that they were going to remodel his shoulder and upgrade the cybernetic implants. They would be more ergonomic and functional. That word again.

He felt a gentle hand stroking the hair back from his face. With a mental sigh, he tried to open his eyes. It proved harder then he thought, and all he saw was a shifting cloud of unfocused, washed out color. But one shade he recognized. That swirl of molten gold. Perhaps some improbable mistake had landed him in paradise, but he doubted that. He tried to smile and failed. He was horribly sad.

They had saved him. He was surrounded by enemies and utterly helpless. They would nurse him back to health and he would land in the Bastille again. His life would be reduced to endlessly counting those gray walls. How could they be so cruel? The irony of it was that they probably thought their act quite heroic. Ah, but then their conscience would be as pure as snow. That was the reason. He almost laughed in derision. Almost.

Still, he had his love near him for one precious moment; he tried to focus, tried to imprint that image in his mind, but then the colors bled in one another and he fell asleep again.

***** ***** *****

Vh'taï

Keith discreetly grabbed Lance's arm and poked his chin leftward. Lance carefully didn't react, waited a few minutes, then he nonchalantly changed his position to see what had made Keith suddenly look sharp and excited. A clutch of drules had taken the elevated table, and with them, resplendent in his ancient splendor, was King Zarkon himself. He had his black and red robes and even the crown of old, with those interminable golden spikes. He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, and he was treated like royalty.

"Well," commented Lance. "It seems the coup Snow was talking about has already taken place . . . This table was always reserved for Scheme, the 'leader' of this ragtag world. He built a kind of guild for thieves and cutthroats here, setting 'protection' and establishing their infamous 'tax'. From the looks of things, Has Been took over."

"Snow," "Has Been?"

"Its bad form to name people here, everyone has a false name, Leone . . . I'll try to get more info."

And Lance darted out in the organized chaos in the room. The Commander quickly lost sight of him, and adjusted his hood. The last thing he wanted was to be recognized in such a place . . .

"Well well," came a sultry voice.

The Commander lifted his head and confronted a blast from the past. Of all the rotten luck in the galaxy! Ikari! The genius of his old school! How had she ended up being a servant in such a hole?

"So, handsome, how are we called these days?" She asked.

"...Er, Leone."

"Leone, neh? Figures. I'll bet fifteen credits 'Stray' is with you."

Keith became even more alarmed. He definitely wished he were anywhere else. When he had been a boy, Ikari had a crush on him and had pursued him relentlessly for years. She wasn't supposed to even know Lance, much less his Stray persona. The skinny, raven-haired waif had become quite curvaceous, and she was wearing such a skimpy affair . . . it really left nothing to the imagination.

"Stray told me all manners of extraordinary things about you, Leone Dear. How about I give you a piece of advice absolutely free, for old time's sake? You've been spotted. Get your cute little arse out of here . . . "

And with that she swayed on her way. He couldn't help thinking hers didn't look bad either, and turned bright pink. Such thoughts were so unlike him! Her delicate hand was holding a tray full of triangular shaped glasses filled with a fluorescent blue liquid. She had left one in front of him. He drank it all at once and struggled afterward not to choke on the demonic concoction. Suddenly Lance was back. Now it was Keith's turn to impress him with a bit of info. They both got up as casually as they could and made their way to the exit. They saw several enormous drules hanging around the entrance, almost too relaxed. Lance grabbed his partner and went in the opposite direction.

"This place is like a harvarti cheese. The trick is to find the right hole to get out . . . "

The big drules were following them. Lance stayed calm and led them in a merry chase among the plants and the confusing architecture of the castle bar. It was obvious they'd been ordered not to create a commotion, and the explorer took full advantage of that. Hunter and prey would lose sight of each other for a few seconds, only to reemerge from behind a fountain or an artificial bush filled with glittering flowers. After a while though, it became evident after one such pause that the quarry wasn't reappearing. The hunters fanned out, widening their search, then looked crestfallen as they began to realize they'd have to report that they lost them.

Lance and Keith were once again winding their way through the mass of smelly creatures, and after a while they got to the spaceport. They had come with Lotor's smuggler ship, a serviceable, discreet machine. Blackened by its proximity to a sun, and with certain parts obviously welded together, there wasn't any chance it was going to be stolen. Surprisingly the odd looking machine had no real damage. They had put a new cloaking device and that was it. Still, the Commander would have given a fortune to have his lion with him just now. In the category of predators, Zarkon and Ikari in the same day really scored high in his book.

"So, who was the looker?" Asked Lance impishly, as if he didn't know.

"You tell me, Stray. Let's get out of here, while we still have all our pieces . . . "

"Not to mention your virginity . . . "

"Just what did she tell you!?" Exclaimed the Commander, suddenly very alarmed. He remembered Ikari was always making up stories. From the amused look in Lance's face, this particular yarn must have been good . . .

***** ***** *****

Aris

"...Rose?"

"Yes, Snow?"

"When are they going to do it?"

"Do what?"

"Put me back in Bastille 12."

"I'm sorry Snow, I don't know at all what they plan."

"It's ok."

The golden eyes disappeared slowly again, and Lotor's breathing became even. He had regained consciousness only a few times and these were the only words he had spoken.

Meanwhile, the doctor was working at integrating the schematic Hunk had provided for new artificial parts. He had never realized the explorer was quite so ingenious. The reconstruction of the face would prove more of a challenge, though. They had kept both eyes, but it had proven a medical error. The eye in the false socket would have eventually gone bad, and he was faced with two choices: either keep it and having to perform major surgery again in a year, or change it now. He opted for the removal, and it facilitated all the rest: the rebuilding of the cheekbone and the articulation for the jaw. He marveled at how the drule had been able to retain some sanity with such a torture device permanently grafted into his face. He would see to it that the new parts were painless. As for esthetic, he could hardly do worse.

As luck had it, cyborgs were his passion. Sometimes the damage was just too great, or the cost of bioengineering too high. For a number of reasons cyborgs still existed, but experts were few and far between. Dr. Hausmann had studied it as a hobby; there was no money in it. Now he had a chance to use all this knowledge and some ideas of his own.

He, Hunk and Pidge had found to their surprise that they formed a formidable trio when it came to design biologically compatible mechanical parts. Hausmann would try this new "sensitive artificial flesh." It was highly experimental, and they didn't know if it would work, but whatever the outcome, the drule would still be better off. The doctor also had some good ideas for the ear, and considering the extent of the damage and the scarring, he was rather proud of his plans. He just hoped his patient would accept the surgery, as removing the old parts would create quite a trauma. Changing the face wasn't an immediate necessity, but in view of the weakening eye and deterioration rate of the tissue surrounding the cybernetic implant, it would be more prudent to act now. And so he let his patient wake, but Lotor wouldn't say a word. In theory he was a war prisoner, so Allura took the decision for him.

When the Commander and Lance came back from Vh'taï, they had just begun the surgery.

They found Rose and the princess pacing the medwing, trailed by Hunk and Pidge who were enthusiastically explaining how their new creations, their 'cyberorgans', were constructed and programmed. Rose was listening intently, as such things fascinated her, but Princess Allura looked awfully relieved at their arrival. She gave them a smile that put a warm glow on their cheeks.

"Well, said Rose, for once you look the part of space explorers."

"You mean space rogues . . . " answered Lance.

Allura had to admit he was right. The two normally dashing heroes looked like something fresh out of a sewer. Muddy boots, filthy colorless robes, and the smell! Indescribable. She tried not to wrinkle her nose as they told them what they had seen.

"Who warned you, you said?"

"An old friend of mine," said Lance as Keith became quite pink.

"Are you all right, Keith?" asked Allura, slightly worried.

"Just a little tired, Princess. Ah, if you don't mind, could we finish this report later?"

"Yeah, said Lance with a twinkle in his eyes, a nice cold shower is just what the Commander needs."

"You could use one too," threw in Pidge, who was standing a little farther off, looking pale.

The two walked away. "You owe me, Commander" Lance was saying. But Allura never noticed. She was back at her pacing, dutifully followed by Rose. Keith jumped when Pidge spoke; he hadn't noticed the two pilots had followed them.

"So, Lance, what's the real story?"

"Ever told you about Ikari?"

"Lance! Cried Keith, shut up!"


	7. Awakenings

1It's back to Lotor on this chapter. Is there anyone reading this? *sounds of crickets chirping . . . * I'd like to know, pretty please! With whipped cream and a cherry on top? Leave a review, I enabled the anonymous reviews. Even if its just one word! Just so I know.

**7- Awakenings**

His brain was trying to decide on which pain it was going to focus. The physical one, maybe, but it was faint and far removed, and Lotor suspected he was on knock out painkillers. The sadness was also competing in this battle, and furious resentment. Couldn't they just have respected his decision? It would have been so perfect. He had given them everything he knew. What possible use could they have for him now?

As the drugs receded, the physical aspect won. He tried to hold on to his pride but failed miserably and finally let out an involuntary whimper. He could hear with preternatural sharpness, and he detected that someone was instantly at his side when he made the sound. Make those sounds. It took him a moment to realize that he was the one crying like a child and it filled him with humiliation. He waited for the jibe, the sarcastic comment, then remembered his father wasn't here. He tried to open his eyes but felt only one respond, tear filled, and he saw unfocused colours. He recognized those ink black hair and was relieved it was Rose. Having Allura see him like this . . .

"H...Hello, little flower," he barely managed.

"Hi, Snow. Don't worry. I'll get the doc and he'll give you something."

He heard the fleet little ferret run away and waited. What had they done to him? His face hurt every bit as bad as when the crash had occurred. He could hardly speak through the swelling. His shoulder wasn't painful, in fact he had completely forgotten about it. He couldn't move his head at all. He used his only arm to try and touch his face. He was hampered by the IV tubes but finally groped high enough to find a bundle of bandages. They had talked about new cybernetic implants, and he suddenly remembered that they had even asked him permission. He had refused to speak. But he was a prisoner of war now, he reflected, and they had obviously overruled that. He heard steps, someone gently put his arm back in position, and everything went fuzzy after that.

When he woke up again he was able to think through the pain, and when he opened his eye he could actually see rather well. He kind of felt his other eye, but the sensation was . . . different. The facial cybernetic implant also felt strange. He couldn't feel the arm's anchor, or rather, it was as if there wasn't any and he had a real, complete shoulder again. He knew it was impossible. In his years of freedom he had studied every treatment possible to restore tissue. In all the cases it might have worked partially if they had tried that immediately after the initial injury. They hadn't bothered and now it was too late. They had told him once a cyborg, always a cyborg.

Hagar had told him that the only thing that could have worked was dark magic, and it involved making bargains with entities you had better not trifle with. She had shown him a glimpse of those beings and the sensation of disgust he had felt then was so keen, he had refused to hear any more about it.

He remembered it vividly. Hagar was fascinated with those entities and called them Masters. She had brought him to the very bowels of castle Doom, in a room set like a temple. It was so dark he could only make out the silhouette of what looked like canine beasts. Even though he had never seen it before, the room felt strangely familiar. Hagar seemed in ecstasy and mumbled reverences. He had felt those things, or spirits, come lick at his mind, as if disgustingly savouring something they felt about him. This sudden invasion had filled him with revulsion. The place reeked with such hatred that Lotor had become dizzy and literally fled, feeling the spiritual tendrils following him, holding him, desiring him.

He couldn't fathom how the witch could not see how repulsive they were. Even now, ensconced in the Arisian medwing light-years away from that temple, he still shivered just recalling the sensation.

He started violently when someone spoke. Lotor didn't recognize the human, but surmised he was the doctor. He was a small, efficient looking man, if somewhat young. He had brown hair, dark eyes and pale skin. A soldier accompanied him.

"So, how are we today?" He asked. "Coherent, I hope?"

"So do I," Lotor answered, surprised at how weak his voice was.

"I wasn't sure. You looked mortally afraid of something a few moments ago."

"What have you done to me? And what are you going to do?"

"Ha! Now I know you are lucid. First presentations. I'm Dr. Hausmann. This is Mr. Marnott. Now. We changed the cybernetic implant of your face. It's made of a brand-new material that even hasn't been named yet. Its principal characteristic is to be touch sensitive, but I admit it's experimental. It may not work. I'm sorry to announce that we removed your left eye," he continued without sounding it at all. "By now you must have known it was dying. Your new arm isn't ready, but the anchor is in place. The yellow lion pilot designed both and for some obscure reason insisted that you should be able to remove the limb. As for what we are going to do, I suppose that was not meant in the medical sense."

"No."

"I haven't the slightest idea. You'll have to ask the princess, that being her department. For the moment you are confined here. If you get up from this room, all manners of alarms will go off, but you couldn't if you tried. I told them that but they insisted. That's why this behemoth is following me," the doc said, pointing his chin at the big human with him, armed and looking dangerous. "Tsk," he added.

Lotor felt amusement in spite of his pain. This was the one Rose called Pink Mammoth. He did have loud breathing and his complexion was reddish.

"The princess has been informed you are awake," continued the doctor, "but the V team is on a mission. They should be back before nightfall, I'm told. You just rest and don't try anything stupid. Just to make sure Mr. Marnott will stay right here with you."

The big spy sat grimly on a chair way too small for him; Lotor thought with chagrin that there was no chance he was going to fall asleep on the rickety affair. He sighed as the doctor made his exit, wondering what new kind of monster he now was.

He certainly wasn't going to show weakness in front of this human, so he swallowed that question and closed his eye, pretending to sleep. After a while he gave that up. It just hurt too much and he couldn't concentrate on anything. He looked at his room, trying to distract himself. They had been generous; there was a big window, low enough so he could see outside the forest he so loved.

"How did you do it?" Marnott suddenly questioned.

"D..do what?" He answered, annoyed at his faint voice. He sounded just as vulnerable as he was.

"Retrace our pattern. We change it every day!"

Lotor stared. Figure it out, the look said. The big spy returned a look that said we will . . . eventually. But for Lotor, it was a diversion. Besides, it didn't matter anymore, and every mechanical designer in the galaxy is always proud of his creations. Lotor particularly liked his butterflies. It had been a welcome relief to build something so intricate after years of designing huge robeasts. Lotor looked in longing at a glass of water near the big soldier and he took the hint. For such an intimidating man, he was surprisingly gentle as he helped the prince drink. The spy carefully laid his head back on the pillow, and sat again on the groaning chair.

"Ever heard of spybots?" Asked Lotor, noticing that is voice was still faint.

"We have something to detect them."

"Not those. They don't record images. They trace heat and the data they transmit is just the curve it follows and the time."

"Umm. Not bad, not bad. But wouldn't such a machine record all the squirrels, birds and what not?" Asked the spy, interested.

"All of those are small. My spybots dismiss small heat sources, and will record only subjects as large or larger then a dog. It's a good thing you never used dogs . . . Now that . . . would have made my little visits difficult."

Exhausted, Lotor looked at his interlocutor. He didn't look mean, just intensely curious.

"They're disguised as butterflies," he continued tiredly. "Gray moths. They're likely still recording data on their trees; you might want to remove them. I don't think father can make head or tail of that array of curves and time references, but who knows . . . Your precious patterns were all figured out by five mechanical butterflies."

"And when you escaped, how the hell did you make it? I could have sworn I shot you."

"... I still have to figure that one out. It was like a dream." Lotor's eye suddenly took a reproachful gleam. "You were the one?"

"Yeah, good shooting too . . . I could hardly see you at all and the ground was so slippery." The big spy leaned forward. "Nothing personal. Just doing my job . . . Shoulder, wasn't it?"

"Umhum."

"We're not supposed to kill. Man, you must have run like a rabbit after that! We were on the spot in seconds."

Lotor got a faraway look.

"I d...did run like each second was my last. What I can't understand is why. I should have realized . . . I really had nowhere to go."

He turned his head toward the window and didn't speak after that. Marnott had other questions, but stashed them for later. Lotor was looking at the trees with longing, and noticed that on the table at this side of his bed, there was a vase filled with astilbes. White ones. That would be Rose, for the ferret didn't like pink, and most astilbes are pink. For a second there he had thought maybe Allura . . . he sighed. He had never truly stood a chance. And he fell asleep like that, in despair, looking at the white feathery flowers until they blurred.

***** ***** *****

Later in the spies' headquarters,

"I know it's crazy, but you know what? I think the guy would actually be a good spymaster. Think of how easily he always evaded us. It's just too bad he isn't on our side."

"You're crazy, Marnott. If the Count hears you he'll fire you."

"That idiot is bound to fire me sooner or later . . . " answered Marnott. "Man, I so dream of working for someone with a backbone, you know? How could this sack of rotten genes have ever fathered Rose?"

"Well . . . " the other smiled impishly, "maybe he didn't . . . "

"Hah! Good one, Martin. Yeah. Rose's real dad must be some unknown genius."

"I'm pretty sure her mom went to the sperm bank, just to make sure she would have _anything_ but her husband's . . . "

"Yeah," Marnott snickered. "Tell me Martin, how come idiots always get to be bosses?"

"Opportunism, lineage, plugs, licking, f..., you name it."

"What about competence?"

"Pfah! Now that would be a first," laughed Martin. "Wake up man, we're peasants. We should do our shift and shut our mouths."

"So, fellow peasant, shall we go hunt for those insects?"

"Let's."

"Maybe we should tell the Count . . . " said Marnott in a sarcastic tone.

"Hey, we're on our free time. Besides at this time of the day he's looking for new ways to make us miserable. He'd probably give us some stupid assignment just to remind us there's him, and then there's god."

So the spies Rose called Pink Mammoth and Fidget put on their spy cloaks and went for a walk in the woods.

***** ***** *****

"That was fun!" Said Pidge joyously.

"Speak for yourself, you did all the work," retorted Lance. "What a boring mission."

They were heading back to Aris after a visit to Amalgamus. The sentient robot and the diminutive computer wizard had traced most of Zarkon's sources of revenue. They didn't destroy them, for they wanted to keep an eye on Zarkon's activities by tracking the transactions. It gave them quite a load of work to do, but that was cyberspy work. The Voltron part would come later. Allura recalled she did have a bunch of experts at financial fraud. They didn't have much to do on Aris. She would have them work with Pidge. That would occupy them for some time.

The green lion pilot smirked, thinking of all the annoying bugs that he had created to make Zarkon's accounts entertaining. Not enough to make one think of cybernetic tampering, just your normal, bug filled day. The kind of day when you have to reboot all the time for the stupid thing freezes on you. Pidge looked like a satisfied cat with his eyes narrowed and a faint smile playing on his lips. Being a hacker sure had its moments . . .

When they finally reached the castle, Allura wondered if she should confront Lotor just now. She felt tired and didn't want to hear "you _will_ be my bride!" for the nth time. Still, being a leader did come with responsibilities, and she gathered her courage. She thought that bringing company would be nice. Keith and Lotor . . . bad idea. Pidge was occupied sorting his data. Lance was usually fiery and fun, but he was sometimes in a somber and brooding mood and she detected that in him today. Hunk was perfect. He was nice to everyone, and had succeeded in getting out of a tight situation by negotiating with the prince. He was a little surprised but took it in stride and accompanied Allura.

***** ***** *****

Lotor had woken when the guard had been changed. Now the same rickety chair swallowed the smallish Marble. The prince sighed. He wasn't going anywhere. He couldn't find sleep after that, and he fought black despair. He knew the guard was there to keep him from trying again. He swallowed painfully. His throat hurt; he knew that part of it, an internal part, was artificial. In fact, except for the brand-new cyberimplants, everything artificial in him hurt. Perhaps his body was rejecting all of it. That was his hope, so he tried to hide the rising pain. If he were fortunate, they'd be too late to do anything about it.

He was also unused to hearing quite so well. At the Garrison hospital, they had only covered the side of his head, saying they wouldn't go through the trouble of grafting a new ear since he needed only one to hear his sentence. Now he could hear again from his left side, and every sound came so clear and vivid it actually bothered him. He could even hear the faint humming of machines in the next room, and the annoying conversations of faraway nurses.

So he heard her long before she came to his room. And he felt near panicking. Rejection he could deal with, but pity . . . She looked liked a goddess when she came in, and he turned away, trying to look at the moonlit forest. It was no use, by now the window was an empty, ink black rectangle. He heard Marble rise from his chair.

"Visitors," announced Hunk's voice.

Allura was uneasy, and the prince didn't speak. His head was turned toward the window, and she could only see the white bandage and the white hair. They had braided it to keep it out of their way. Marble placed his chair near the bed and wordlessly offered it to the princess, then he tactfully retired.

"I demanded that they transfer your custody here on Aris," she said. "They accepted, so at least, you can forget Bastille 12."

He didn't turn, but after a while stuttered "T..thank you" in a broken voice. Not really knowing what to add, she got up and contoured the bed, trapping him neatly. He was so thin! Most of the swelling was gone, but his face was still patched in the darker shade of capillary bleeding, and his golden eye shone in the blue-black skin.

"How in hell did you find me?" He asked. "My plan was flawless."

His voice worried Allura. It was changed, soft and faint. Something was wrong, and it wasn't only the defeated tone or the lack of arrogance.

"Believe it or not, you owe your life to my father. He showed me where Rose was and she guessed your intentions."

What a neat vengeance, thought Lotor. 'My father killed you, not I,' he thought helplessly to the absent spirit, 'why couldn't you let me have peace?'

*You have to stay. You shall help us.*

Now what was that voice? He had felt it . . . in his head? A presence, not unlike the dreadful things Hagar had shown him, but these radiated kindness and light. Maybe he was insane. He must have imagined it. He stayed silent, observing the adored figure of his beloved.

"You are safe here. I hope you know that. Maybe safer than you'd wish," she said with a slight smile. "Father must have had a reason for this. I just don't know what it is . . . yet."

"I know it's no fun being a cyborg and all that," said Hunk in a conversational tone, "but it wasn't hard to improve on what you had. By the way, there _is_ a law against using war prisoners as a source of experimenting, so I guess you can actually sue us. That is, it would pass the time. You'd probably win, at that."

"I'll pass," said Lotor tiredly.

"Well, if you want all the specifics on your new implants I'd be overjoyed, but it'd take quite some time. We tried a lot of things, new materials, wiring all that to your nervous system . . . "

Allura smiled. It made her face so enchanting.

"You were in that operating room for Lord knows how many hours, and Pidge and Hunk almost drove me nuts describing their creations."

"Yeah, Pidge did all the programming, of course. What we wanted was a way to make the movement as natural as possible. We had to study weight, balance, how to wire the thing . . . Actually we bored everybody to tears with our 'cyberorgans'. But they'd make a good bedtime story."

"Well, said the prince in his wan voice, I hoped you enjoyed it. Surely all the galaxy will crucify you for having spent credits on a suicidal convict."

"I'll deal with the galaxy," stated the princess, frowning and not noticing the enormity of this statement. "What they put you through with those cheaply wired robot parts is not defensible. Even for a criminal. You can be sure I'll have some inquiries made to find out how the other Drules prisoners were treated."

"Y.. you will?" He said with the first glint of interest they'd seen so far.

"Of course. It should have been done already. And there are lots of refugees. I refuse to believe that a race is entirely evil."

"How did you know I cared at all?" Lotor asked, genuinely curious.

"You did want to pass all your considerable fortune to refugees, didn't you?"

"You read the letters," he accused.

"Only the black one. You're alive, aren't you? I haven't touched mine. Should I?"

"No. Please . . . don't."

"What's wrong with your voice?" She asked gently.

"N...nothing."

By now it was a whisper and the prince seemed to have difficulty breathing.

"I don't believe that."

She put her hand on his forehead and became alarmed. He flinched. He felt so cold that his teeth chattered.

"Hunk, get somebody. He's burning up. You should have said something," she admonished Lotor.

"Whatever... for?" He managed to ask.

She sighed, trying to think of an answer. She went back to the chair and took hold of his hand with both of hers while she waited for the medics. He enjoyed that. Her hands were so soft, and that small part of him wasn't incased in ice anymore.

Allura looked at him. Gone was the enraged prince wishing to force her into marriage. What was left was just a feverish, exhausted drule, worn out by years of rage and conflict. Having abandoned his anger, he was suddenly fragile. He just wanted to sleep. Was that too much to ask? Did they have the right to steal this decision from him? She wondered. Well, as long as someone loves you there is hope, she thought. And little Rose loved him. She had brought flowers and she spoke only of the day when they'd be back at annoying the castle spies . . .

"Rose. You're important to her," the princess answered him after a pause. "She was ever so lonely. Her father is a Count who thinks his rank allows him to get away with everything. It's no wonder you could evade the spies, he's their leader. We can't fire him; it would create havoc among the nobles. Rose wants desperately to become a spy but he won't hear about it. He wants her to marry some noble friend of his thrice her age. She now refuses to even see him. Surely you can relate to that . . . Her mother died two years ago. We all like her, but nobody seems to have time for her. She sees you as her best friend ever; she only talks of her Snow . . . I kept the gifts, you know. It made her so happy. It would hurt her so . . . "

Allura looked in the black rectangle of the window.

"Besides . . ." she added in such a low voice that she didn't think possible he would hear it, "it would hurt me, as well."

Bionic ears are merciless. He heard, and it gave him a faint glimmer of pleasure, so he held onto that small light even though he knew it was absurd, while an army of medics began a flurry of activity around him. He gratefully drifted off in drugged sleep, hoping he wouldn't wake.

***** ***** *****

"He's rejecting all his old cybernetic implants," Dr. Hausmann was saying. "Since they'd been efficient for years, we didn't monitor that. We'll have to move through this faster then we thought."

"What do you mean, old implants? You changed all of it, no?"

"We changed the most obvious ones. The arm and the face will be fine, but he has others. Part of his throat was remade, part of the rib cage, and the hipbone was modified to accommodate the partly artificial right leg and foot. I read the reports of the surgeons who first worked on him. Their mandate was to keep the patient alive for his trial, and have him able to walk in. They didn't expect him to live for very long and didn't waste their time in niceties and finishing touches. Now it's failing on him all at once. It's almost like an attack. We wanted to do this by stages, but now we have no choice."

"Will he make it?" Asked Allura in a tiny voice.

"Sincerely, I don't think so. But then he shouldn't have survived the crash in the first place. His recovery was not expected. Drules are though, maybe he'll surprise us again . . . "

And with that Hausmann joined his colleagues in surgery. Allura didn't want to pace this one out. She headed for her garden and sat on a bench, admiring the stars. Maybe they had only delayed the inevitable. She couldn't sort out her feelings for the drule prince. The idea of his being gone forever filled her with sadness. She reflected that it was such a waste. She knew that deep inside, he did have a heart, and that his love for her was genuine. 'Hang on, Lotor, there must be some reason father saved you. Don't leave us . . . me . . . now that we have a chance of showing you your life can be different . . . '

"There you are, Princess."

She heard the soft steps of the Commander behind her. He covered her with a blanket he had brought.

"May I?" He asked, showing the empty space next to her.

She nodded and they sat in silence. Keith could be so understanding. She didn't need words right now. Just to be reminded she was not alone.

Observing this from a distance, Lance decided to let them be, and instead went in the moonlit forest. By daylight, the forest was Rose's enchanted realm. By night, it was Lance's mysterious territory, as any lone wolf likes to have one. Besides, he was not in a chitchat mood. He had one of his flares of nostalgia, and the dark forest reflected his thoughts, a sombre place fringed with silver where one has tread carefully, for the very silence can hide a predator. Those were the moments he burned to get in his lion, fly alone to castle Doom and strangle Zarkon. Lance had a fiery nature. But he was not an idiot. When that mood was on him, he would either hide it or isolate himself until it passed. The forest was ideal brooding ground: owls didn't uselessly try to cheer you up. He came upon his favourite lake and sat, listening to the loons.

In the garden, the chill was starting to get to Keith and he wished he had brought a blanket for himself as well.

"Keith!" Exclaimed Allura suddenly, "Dr. Hausmann said that this was almost like an attack. Zarkon did have a tracking device implanted in Lotor's arm . . . What if it was him? Maybe he has a way to make the robot parts fail . . . "

"It would explain the weird synchronicity. And that would be revenge in the Zarkon classic style... Hunk and Pidge could know if it's possible. But even if it were so, there's nothing much we can do about it now."

"I wish there were."

"I know. Don't worry though, drules are though. I don't think we'll get rid of Lotor so easily."

He saw her shivering.

"It's getting cold, princess. I don't think he'll be out of there before morning. Why don't you catch some sleep?"

"I think I will. Thanks, Keith."

"Anytime."

The Commander stayed in the garden. Allura had given him the blanket and he was contemplating the diamond filled indigo sky. He had seen Lance heading in the forest, but he knew his temperamental teammate sometimes liked just to be left alone. He would have given all he possessed to rid Lance's soul of that lingering sadness he hid so well. How does one deal with seeing his entire village destroyed? With having no family left, and owing it all to Zarkon, the son of which they were now trying to save? How does one justify that noble hearts like Lance and Pidge were orphaned by war, while the hateful beings responsible still had relatives? He had no answers, so he tactfully left Lance pace his territory in the company of bats and crickets.

Keith thought with a vague smile, if Lotor really did change sides, how the monarch would writhe in fury! Could it really happen? Allura had never ceased to believe it could. He wasn't so sure . . .

He started badly when someone sat on the bench beside him. He realized he had fallen asleep, and now Lance was there with his usual, sarcastic smile.

"Good promenade?" He asked sleepily.

"Great. I spotted three owls and heard a fourth. That has to be my record."

"You ok?"

"I guess. So . . . do you think the tin head will once again escape Lady Death?"

"You know Lotor. He always was an escape artist. You punch him down a hole and he pokes out of the next. Do you wish it?"

He hesitated.

"I'm vaguely curious to see how _he_ can deal with having lost everything."

There was an awkward pause and then Lance became his old self again.

"Well, it's freezing. I bet you'll have caught a major cold, falling asleep like that. You should have kept your pretty heat source nearby . . . "

"Shut up," Lance, said the exasperated Keith, just before he sneezed.

"Hah! I knew it. Well, a cold has some advantages, I'll bet that when you're stuck in bed, someone's bound to come in and adjust your blankets . . . "

Well at least his sombre mood seemed to be gone, thought Keith as he sneezed again. They both went to their quarters. Lance slept very well, but Keith _had _caught a cold.

In the morning, when he didn't show up for breakfast, Lance stated the obvious reason and the Commander received the info updates in bed. Their prisoner was still in surgery, but so far had made it.

Keith had the unexpected pleasure of being awakened by Allura, who delivered this news herself. The aging Nanny accompanied her. In spite of her arthritis she would never let _her_ princess enter a man's room alone. Well, it was still a nice surprise. To his delight, and true to Lance's prediction, Allura did adjust his blankets, looking very concerned for his health when he let out a small giggle. So she stayed with him and sat worriedly on his cushioned chair. The princess made a charming tableau, framed as she was by the single window in his room.


	8. Dawn

1Well, this is the last chapter before the part I lost. I'm rewriting two or three chapters, something I don't like much. That'll teach me to neglect my backups! My faithful computer Hercules fried after years of services. So I will not update as rapidly. Except for chapter 9, I 'finished' it yesterday. I don't think it's as good as the lost version, After those 2 or 3, I have another bunch already written.

I have only 2 reviews by the same person (thanks, Diahard! :-)) but I have faithful traffic, so thanks for reading my story. Even though I write for fun, the point is still to have readers!

**8- Dawn**

If he thought it hurt before, he was now reevaluating his scale. It had been a week since he had first woken up after this new surgery, and they insisted on putting him on his "legs" once a day. He knew from past experience that this was necessary, and they were awfully nice and properly desolate, but damn! Did it hurt!

At the Garrison hospital they hadn't been so kind, and in spite of the genuine concern of the Arisian personnel, the memories were too keen. He remembered how the Garrison had made his stay there a study in legal torture. He tried to keep a straight face, like he had then, but still those involuntary whimpers would come. Once a prince, and now he sounded like a beaten puppy. This was so humiliating!

"Tsk!" Said the nurse. "I told you a thousand times to say it straight out when it gets too much. We can't evaluate your need when you try to be a big boy. All Right, it's enough for today."

The two male nurses put him back on his bed. The big one had a reproachful gleam in his eyes. He got out and was back in minutes with those pink pills. Lotor took them rather gratefully this time.

They never left him alone. When his two helpers left, Marble came to his post. The drule noted that they had changed the noisy chair for something much more comfortable. Maybe the small spy would fall asleep and he would have his chance... He couldn't walk on his own, though. And they had carefully removed anything he could have used. Even the glasses were made of something white that bent under a slight pressure. He would have to wait.

In spite of himself, the first signs of curiosity made their way in his brain. What would he see with his new eye? Could this artificial flesh really respond to touch? He had blasted Hunk with questions, and the pilot had gladly obliged, explaining how it worked, how the new arm was capable of a range of moves identical to a real one. For the face they had used this new "artificial flesh." It was in bundles of fibres like real muscle. The implant was much more fragile then real flesh, and it could not efficiently heal itself. Any serious bruise would mean a surgery. That was why they hadn't made the arm that way. It was classic, made of metal and wires.

Lotor wondered if it could move like a real arm, and if that new facial implant would really be sensitive to touch. They were supposed to test his nervous network tomorrow. He felt longing for the first time since his attempt.

He realized that he'd fallen asleep only when his eyes opened and he saw the dawn peek through the trees. He smiled. One never saw the sun rise at castle Doom. It was a rare sight for him. He couldn't help but be moved by the lining of golden light that fringed every single branch. When he looked to see who was the spy on duty, he saw Dr. Hausmann in the chair. The diminutive doctor had obviously been waiting for him to wake up. He had his two helpers as well. The doctor literally jumped up in glee.

"Now we get to see the results! Stay still!"

He removed the bandages. They had replaced them several times before, but the drule had never been awake then. He could feel every subtle difference as the layers thinned, and it was a shock when fresh air touched his face. He could feel the very air as it moved, the tiny eddies and currents caressing his artificial skin. It was... embarrassingly pleasant.

"Well, do you feel anything?"

"Everything," he said in an awed voice. "I can feel the very air..."

"Does it hurt?"

"Mmm," began Lotor with a blush, "not really. Actually it's... ah, rather nice."

"Ah, I see," said Hausmann knowingly. "Maybe a little too nice?"

Lotor nodded and the doctor smirked.

"It was a possibility, but admit it's much better then nothing."

The prince looked rather alarmed and swallowed hard. He brought his hand to his face and touched it. By the seven gates! His light touch sent waves of intense pleasure and he blushed even more. Haussmann seemed to think this was quite funny, and Lotor glared at him. You'd think the human had done that on purpose!

"There was no way to determine just how your nerves would colonize the artificial flesh. We knew how it reacted in labs, nervous cells really love this stuff... We had to wait and see, but I hypothesized such an eventuality, and I'm prepared for it. You had a rather unpleasant looking half mask, so we made another one. It will block some sensitivity, and we can adjust that."

The doctor had a way to start talking and never stop, so while he continued, Lotor asked the nurse for a mirror. What new kind of monster was he, the question had burned his mind, and now this human was babbling about how it'd be neat to be able to adjust his nervous response at will. The nurse smiled knowingly, he knew Hausmann quite well! He handed Lotor a mirror and the prince could contemplate his ruined face for the first time since he left Doom. Hunk had told him a little what to expect. The artificial compound was black. It filled and contoured the wound, hugging closely to his real skin, and had grown over it in a fringe of dark chaotic lace. They had sculpted it quite well, but the mate, sombre patch didn't return much light, and it looked rather as if half his face had been swallowed in nothingness. It was not ugly, so much as it was strange. He saw his new eye as well, and was relieved it looked exactly like his other, a gold orb with a slit pupil that dutifully followed his real one.

Still, Lotor had never gotten over having lost the beauty that had been part of his power. He was utterly overwhelmed. He wished those humans could just get out! He looked with intensity at his new self, a remote part of him impressed at how his new cyber implant imitated to perfection and in absolute synchronicity the contracting muscles around his real eye. Only the real one truly leaked tears, though. The mirror fell. The surprise and joy of having feeling restored, the mixed jumble of amazement and fear at his appearance, the crushing fact that he was going to have to wear a half mask again, all of that just poured out and he sobbed, humiliation adding itself to the rest.

Haussmann felt a little embarrassed; he had carefully studied every possibility, including the one that the cyberflesh would work too well, but he had neglected emotional response. He had so wanted to see how it had turned out! He had been as exited as a kid, wanting to try the new arm as well, fascinated as ever by the real nerves reaching out to the electronic ones. He decided the arm could wait. Besides the hand wasn't ready. He sent the nurses out and showed Lotor the half mask, a rather practical item with no frills, made with cunningly overlapped dark gray plates. It would "stick" to his cyberflesh. Without a word, he just placed it on and the mask molded itself on Lotor's face. Then, still not speaking, Haussmann passed a finger lightly on the drule's cheek. He hoped it would work as well as he thought. The prince felt the touch exactly as it would have been on his real skin, just a little more intense, perhaps, but close enough to have him completely overcome by startled joy. In spite of himself he gasped. Haussmann smiled and left. Sometimes words were unnecessary.

Fidget immediately came in to resume his vigil on the chair, intrigued that a drule could actually cry himself to sleep.


	9. Sacred Duty

This chapter is called Sacred Duty, which should have been the title of the fic. When I first posted the story I realised I didn't have a title... woe me... and chose one on the spot, but it really should have been 'Sacred' Duty, because frankly, even though I like Lotor as a character, I don't see him honoring a sworn duty to the letter if it no longer fits his agenda... and isn't it part of what makes him a multifaceted character? He would maybe respect a vow if something he is supersticious about is involved. He wont become an angel. He'll gripe a lot. Grrr, humans...

Spirits of the dead and of the Lions will play a big part in the fic. I worked with this idea that lions have associated spirits, as it is mentionned in V3D. I don't remember if it was part of the original series.

**9- Sacred Duty**

Lotor was not what you'd call sensitive. He had been a cynical, opportunistic and ambitious person, but having lost that, he was now literally assaulted by feelings he didn't know how to deal with. He would have preferred having real, solid monsters to tame.

Tame! Now that was a good word. A word he was used to. He firmly told his unruly feelings to curl up somewhere and die. It was not as efficient as he'd have liked, but it did help somewhat.

He could now walk around with almost no support, and noticed with amusement how this had been acknowledged: they had put armed guards everywhere. He wondered in what kind of confinement he'd be transferred to when they declared him healthy.

He learned that his father had declared himself King of Vh'tai, and that he was establishing a new Drule Empire, asking all drules to rally to him. Lotor was amazed that a large number of drule actually flocked to the tiny planet. They kicked quite a number of rogues out, and new constructions were underway there.

He laughed when he saw his father on the 3D platform saying he denied him. Where in the multiverse would the fossil find a female of any species willing to give him a new heir? But the smile disappeared when he thought she'd probably have no choice, just like his own mother. He thought the Voltron team would make a big deal of his being demoted to a Persona Non Grata in the new Drule Empire, but they didn't. Arisians still called him my Lord or Prince, even though he was their prisoner and Zarkon had stripped him of his titles and citizenship. No amount of complaining on his part convinced them to stop. It was almost irritating; why would they do that?

He got his new arm and it did move well, but it lacked the most important part: the hand. Hunk was still working on it, having made the building of this thing a personal challenge. In the meantime, they had plugged in a rather good model, three fingered like the one he had before, but this one, at least, had an opposable thumb, which made it much better.

Between physiotherapy seances he sighed and planned. He seemed to be in relatively good spirit, but that was just to fool his entourage. His decision still stayed the same. Strangely enough, he did feel a little sorry for the doctors and all of the humans that tried to make his body less of a torture device. That was certainly a great deal of effort that would lead nowhere. But then, he had never asked for any of this.

The spies would have been hard to fool, they were quite keen, Marble especially. The small man seemed to be able to see right through him. Sometimes, there would be two of them, and Lotor distractedly noted from their conversations that they despised their leader and were a bitter, frustrated bunch. They had good ideas. They were insanely loyal to Allura. Their main complaint was the Count himself, their not so esteemed leader. Lotor wondered if his father's soldiers held a similar discourse...

But now that they'd been replaced by armed soldiers, he stood a chance. Every now and then, he would hear the alarms of the castle, and the familiar sounds of the lions in battle. Sometimes the lights would flicker, and immediately come back on, and that hinted at an auxiliary system. He carefully noted the routine of the castle soldiers. Maybe one of his father's attacks would allow him to try again.

In preparation for this, he deliberatelly made himself appear weaker then he really was. He looked at the lock of the door. This model wasn't a challenge for him. Having been confined by his father several times as a child and a teenager, he had made a point of learning as much as he could on locking mechanisms. He would just let himself out and scout the castle unhindered, and return to the same room to make it appear as if he hadn't left at all.

Another strategy he used then, when he had guards inside his chambers, was the superior, arrogant smirk, a non-smile that drove underlings mad with a fury they couldn't express. As a result, whoever was stuck to on guard duty would carefully avoid looking directly at him. They would guard the door, the windows, and ignore him if he wasn't actually trying to get out.

These talents would serve him well now, all he needed was some kind of sharp object. The rickety chair that had been pushed in a corner. Some parts were held with wire. He put it facing the window as if he wanted to sulk, and sat on it for hours. It was a simple thing to pretend to worry nervously at protuding, offending bits. He carefully weakened the part he needed, and reigned in his elation when the perfect little metallic sliver came loose.

From then on it was a waiting game. His chance came one night, he heard the sounds of an attack, and a massive explosion near the castle illuminated his room. His guard immediately came to the window to look, a stupid mistake Lotor wasn't going to waste. He knocked the guard down, took his gun and hurried to the door, making short work of the lock.

The castle soldiers were in full battle mode, their attention to the invasion of footsoldiers. Lotor could hear the growlings of a robeast, and assumed Voltron would be kept occupied. He used all the stealth he could, ignoring the pain and following his plan. He went to the deepest part of the castle, at the one place he was certain no one would look for him : the temple of the Lions. A fitting shrine, he thought, for one final act.

***** ***** *****

Lotor marveled at his ease in finding the place. He had seen the schematics of the castle, but Doom's info on the specifics of that part was scant at best. Still, Lotor had felt a pull to the temple, and so came upon it without difficulty.

He was ashamed to feel a bit awed by the radiant beauty of the place. The statues of the five lions were not exactly unexpected, but the place *felt* beautiful. The walls were multihued veined marble, lined with decorative archways. The silvery light seemed to seep from all around, he couldn't see any definite source for it. There was an autel on a dais, and he lowered himself comfortably in front of it. He was serene. His resolve didn't waver.

He took the laser gun.

He pointed it bellow the chin in a manner that would bring instant death.

He smiled in contentment.

He pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

He stared in horror and betrayal at the weapon. Safety down, standard footsoldier issue... He fired again. Again, nothing. He rose and aimed at a wall. This time, a killer beam emerged, blasting a path in the marble. How?! How could that be? In a rage, he continued his furious destruction of the walls, all the while turning the weapon around. As soon as the beam came near his flesh, it stopped. He let out a scream of pure agony.

He sank to the floor, incomprehending, spent.

*Desist, my son*

Lotor lifted his head toward the sound, and let out a startled, hysterical laugh, thinking he was insane at last.

A shimmering silver aura surrounded a stunning woman that was *hovering* thirty inches off the floor. She was looking down at him with kindness. She was human with long, dark golden hair, white skin and deep blue eyes. She wore an intricate black drule robe that moved to an unfelt breeze. His mad laughter dissolved to tears as he let his eyes plead the ghost of his beautiful mother to take him with her.

***** ***** *****

It was the second brush with Hagar's new magic. Keith and the others had discussed it, and they'd concluded that the only thing that would penetrate the stones magic was itself. The commander maneuvered his team to force the enemy vessels and the robeast to come on either side of Voltron. They then shifted in an intangible state, so that the violet beam passed right through them, and their enemies jsut hit each other. That disabled the protective magic of the stone. After that it was the more familiar fight and they made short work of the vicious robeast.

The furious pace of the battle left the V force tired and more then happy to call it a night. Keith was understandably furious when he learned the disapearence of the Prince. They assumed he had fled with the drules, but called a wide search all the same.

Four of the pilots were searching the castle themselves, when Hunk suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

"Did you feel this, guys?"

"A pull?" Inquired Pidge.

"So I'm not imagining things", added Lance.

"It feels like the spirit of the Lions," commented Keith. "We might as well follow it."

Allura was not to relax either. The nearest village had been damaged, and she was busy orchestrating the aftermath of the battle. The enclave drule refugee quarter had only one exit, and it had become clogged as they tried to get out to the shelters. Many refugees were seriously hurt. She thought it was such a shame, to come here to flee Zarkon's tyranny years ago to be threatened again by the same despot. She couldn't free herself for a while, but she also felt the pull of the Lions, and a soon as she took care of all the lose ends, she followed it. She was the most spiritually atuned to the Lions and knew exactly where : the temple.

She was so lost in thoughts of how to protect the planet from this new magic that she was doubly startled when she entered the temple. She was confronted by one of the strangest sight she had ever seen : Keith was arguing with a magnificent ghost!

She looked a bit like her, but her face was more elfin, and Allura realised the bone structure was similar to Lotor's. Her unbound hair flowed lazily as if she was immersed in water. She was semi-transparent, and evocated those ancient victorian paintings, in spite of the drule robes. Allura felt this spirit was benevolent, so she didn't fear for the team. Instead she took in the rest of the scene. Lotor was kneeling before the spectral woman, his shoulders nearly to the floor, utterly still, his hair pooling around him. A laser gun lay nearby. The wall showed laser damage, and she wondered if he was hurt, as his posture suggested. And the strange conversation...

"You ask for the impossible," Keith was saying.

"Not so, young man. If this is to work at all, he must be allowed a minimum of freedom. A boundary would be acceptable, say, a couple kilometers around the castle..."

"One! Even one is too much!" Keith exclaimed. "We'd have to have a way to monitor him at all times. And under guard!"

"Come now," the ghost was arguing, "that arrangment would drive him insane. It would have no chance to succeed. He's bound, you wouldn't have too..."

"Excuse me... Lady...?" inquired Allura, cutting off the argument.

"I am Alana Leatitia Alestrin," answered the floating spirit. She smirked, an expression they'd seen countless times... but on Lotor's face. She added "Was. I am quite dead. I've been hovering for years, trying to make contact."

"What's going on exactly?"

Keith took a disgusted expression.

"This... lady claims she is Lotor's mother. Was. She wants us to give Lotor a chance to try 'our values'."

"It's a bit more then that, Princess. My death was sudden and I never had the chance to make my last wishes known. Such wishes are sacred to drules. Even though I am human, it is significant enough to me that I never could move on. I won't ever be at peace if my last wishes aren't fulfilled. I tried several times to contact Lotor, but my spiritual from could only come through to him in dreams and I couldn't even make myself heard. In this temple, I can be both seen and heard. Its the first time we are both in a spirit place that is not affected by the shield Hagar put on him. This is unhoped for, after all those years..."

Alana hovered, giving Allura a pleading look. She continued.

"My death wishes are to be given to my chosen, my son. They are twofold. One, he should not seek death. And secondly, he is bound to try live by your creeds for a full year. If he deems them without merit, he can then choose his way of life, but he has to give it a sincere try."

Her eyes were desperate. She looked at all the pilot in pleading.

"My time is limited. I'm already starting to fade. Lotor has already pledged to my last wishes. He is now bound. To drules, such vows are sacred. To deny them would forsake his soul. He will trully try. But in order for it to happen, I need you. I need him to have an opportunity to fulfill his duty. If he is too confined, how can he see the merits of your society? I might as well take him with me right now..."

At this, Lotor looked toward his mother in such obvious longing, that they couldn't help a pang in their hearts. The male pilots turned toward Allura. It was her planet, after all, and Lotor and his obsession was one of her biggest problems. The princess sighed.

"I am not necessarily against this. I always thought there is light to be found in the darkest corners. But the first creed he has to understand, or at least act upon, will be to respect my right to choose a companion for myself. Also, I would not be the one to manage the logistics of this. Keith, I think it should fall to you. Pidge could handle the security gadjets you'd need. I think its feasible if you're in charge : he cannot manipulate you."

"I think the whole team should have a say," said Keith, mostly for the benefit of Lance, who looked the most furiously opposed. "I will refuse if you are not willing, Lance."

The ghost approched the red lion pilot and lowered herself to his level. "Help me, Angry One," she pleaded, "help me find peace at last. If you accept, my ordeal will be lighter. It will last one year, at the end of which I'll be able to pass on, or will be eternal, if Lotor fails to this duty. But at least, I will have the certitude he at least tried. Please... Give him a chance to end my errancy in the trails of the likes of Zarkon and his witch... I never had the chance to raise my own son. I could only observe from beyond the growing monster Zarkon was shaping him into." She sighed, her shoulders sagging. "It was and still is Hell, Young one. Pure Hell."

Lance stubbornly crossed his arms. "I wont ever do it for him, he doesn't deserve it," he declared. Alana widened her eyes in dismay. "However, I'm willing to accept for you."

At this, there came in their hearts an explosion of joy so intense it that their minds reeled. Alana became brighter and offered Lance a smile so radiant and relieved that he swayed as her gratitude hit him. She then floated to Lotor, bending gracefully to kneel before him, as he was still curled up on himself. She cupped his face, never quite touching.

"Remember, my son. Even though you will not see me, I am never far. It is in your power to give me eternal happiness, whatever you decide at the end of this year. But know that your vow to at least try has already ended years of painful yearning. Thank you, my beautiful son. Thank you so much..."

She faded slowly, still smiling at all of them, silver tears trailing her cheeks.

Lotor turned toward the pilots, shaken to the core. Allura looked hopeful, Hunk calmly accepting, Pidge was frowning but nodded determinedly. Keith was a study in doubt, and Lance's eyes were narrowed. Lotor realized that to end his mother's Hell, he now had to enter his own.


	10. Refugee

1The last chapter was re-written, as will be this one. So they are not as well rounded, sorry for that. I'll even have to add stuff to chapter 9 that I forgot. Grrr. Its not easy because I lost those chapters more then a year ago. I almost gave up my fic. But I told myself that with over 20 chapters still existing, it'd be a shame to let it die.

Voltron Universe is not mine. It belongs too many entities I have no ties with whatsoever. This is for fun, no money being made, dadda dadda.

**10- Refugee**

They gave him a room. Depressed as he was, Lotor didn't show a great deal of interest in his new 'home'. It was rather small by his standards, but cosier then the sterile, colourless medical wing. Near the single window was an enormous, wing-backed cushioned chair that became his substitute for his sofa. He curled in it for hours. He figures that if he didn't leave his room, he couldn't make any mistakes.

He now had an official refugee status. Keith wanted to keep a close eye on him, so they didn't send him to the drule refugee's little enclave in a nearby village. The commander kept him in the castle and established a set of rules to follow. The most irritating one was that the ex-prince had to make regular contact, in person, either with him or his second-in-command Lance.

Electronics and communicating devices of any kind were forbidden. He had no access to the village. He could go in the forest in a perimeter of one kilometre around the castle. Rose could accompany him, something she obtained after hours of nagging.

All of that went without saying, Lotor thought. Still, they were more generous that he expected. He was to be treated no worse then any other refugee. The servants deferred to him in certain things, like laundry and food, but he couldn't order them around.

The spycloak had been confiscated, but he was given used drule robes that were a gift from the association of drule refugees here. They were threadbare, but colourful, well cut and comfortable.

He was brooding, ensconced in his favourite cushioned chair, when someone knocked and entered. Little Rose came in with a box and papers, hair and skirts bouncing joyously. He smiled at her, happy to have the ferret relieve his boredom. He hadn't seen her for a while.

"Hello, Snow!" She began. "How do you like your room? Are you ok? Do your legs still hurt? Can I try your chair?"

She was poking around, testing the mattress, taking in the furniture. "Its an ok place. The view is cool. Here, I brought you messages and a homecoming-welcome gift."

He took the offered box distractedly.

"Messages?"

"There's a closed quarter of refugees in the nearby village. I told you about that. They give this packet of information to every new refugee. But you can read it later, Snow."

"You want me to open your gift." He smirked knowingly. She was practically bouncing in anticipation.

"I made it myself!" She announced proudly. "Well, I had a little help with the design as I don't know what it all means. I did research and also asked a seamstress in the village. The drule part of course. Open it!"

So Lotor did while Rose was babbling : "We'll all need formal wear in the castle in a little while, but Allura wouldn't tell me why, no matter how much I kept asking. Ma made me a horrible, *Horrible* pink dress with tons of ribbons I'll look like a cat toy in..."

Lotor was stunned to unfold a drulean formal robe in a purple so dark it appeared black. It had absolutely no frill, and the cut and design were fit for a prince. While most people wouldn't know what the long sleeves, half cape, epaulets and flow of the material meant, Lotor did and found himself quite touched that Rose had put so much thought in this. Even the absence of flashy adornment was significant. It implied that the person wearing it did not *need* any to impress. It was a sign of strength, a detail she could have overlooked, since that practice had been ignored for decades.

He held it to the light, strangely unable to speak as his throat constricted with emotion.

"It's a royal robe, Rose," he managed at last. "I'm no longer a prince."

"Do I look as if I give a damn? Besides, the drule seamstress thought it was a magnificent idea. They still consider you a prince, you know, and I'd take their opinion over Zarky's any day. Put it on! I wanna see!"

She gave him a good shot of puppy eyes. He smirked and said : " Wouldn't it be better to keep those for that formal thing we know nothing of?"

"Only if you promise not to laugh at my stupid dress."

"I promise I'll try, Little Flower."

He was still admiring the design, then seemed to remember something.

"I heard a servant call you 'Kohana'," he asked her. "Which is the right name?"

"All of 'em," Rose said, sitting down on the bed. "Kohana is my real name and it means 'little flower'. Dad married mom because he was so desperately in love then. She's from Japan. That's on Earth. He met her during a diplomatic outing. When he came back on Aris with a 'foreign' wife, the other nobles shunned him."

"foreign? She wasn't human?"

"Yes she was, silly, some humans still make distinctions based on skin tone, eyes and suchlike."

Ah, I understand. We have the same problem among drules. I thought humans were above that. Aren't humans among the 'good guys'?"

"Most are. But some are very stubborn about it. The higher-ups here are a pretty narrow-minded bunch. They all crawled from under their hiding place when Allura began more actively ruling Aris. Then two years ago mommy died. Poor dad was demolished. And there I was, black hair, slanted eyes and all. The nobles know I'm a one of them, but look at me as some sort of nullity. He wants them to "recognise' me or something, so much it that he wont listen when I say I don't care. He says that when I'm a baroness everyone will bow and scrape, and he wants me to marry a baron friend of his. I loathe the guy, and we have big fights about this."

"Marry? Just how old are you?" Lotor exclaimed.

"Thirteen."

Lotor's eyes widened comically in surprise. She was minuscule and as flat as a carp. He thought she was nine or ten at best.

"Legal possible age to marry here is fourteen. It's a age old law, it kept the bloodlines and all. They all intermarried at a point, pretty disgusting if you ask me," she went on. "I wont accept of course... Not even when I'm eighty. The guy just gives me the creeps."

"Good for you. And the name 'Rose'?"

"Lance called me that all the time because I hate pink. A rose is a flower, but its also the colour pink. I griped a lot about it in the beginning and of course, he insisted so much it stuck. I don't mind now." She paused, then said : "Do you want to go haunt the forest? Pink Mammoth changed the patterns again. I want to study them, we can't have them get the better of us!"

"That would be a shame. But its best if stay here, flower. Who knows what unsaid principle I could break? If I'm to follow your rules I need to study the human society first. I don't want to forsake my soul for a simple blunder. The only 'diplomatic' knowledge I have of your way of life is the please-thank you thing."

"One other very important one is not to lie, Snow. Its because your legs hurt, don't they? You keep shifting them."

"All right, they do. But what I said is also true. Satisfied?"

"Tsk, lie by omission. Bad, bad. Want me to call someone?"

"No, I see Hausmann this afternoon. Besides we wouldn't have the time to go far, and I want to read this," he said, showing the stack of papers Rose had brought.

"Ok. I guess it means I should get rid of homework," she said, heading for the door with a disgusted pout.

Lotor got out of his chair and carefully put the robe away. "Thank you for the gift, Rose," he said with more emotion he wanted to show. "I'm sure I'll do perfectly well if l gauge my take on human nobility on you, I think." She grinned.

"Thanks. Heroics is Keith (Lotor scowled at this), good humoured jokes and philosophy is Lance, kindness is Hunk and all of that, plus the rationale behind it is Pidge. You can do no wrong taking their example..."

"Grrr."

She laughed. "Bye, Snow." She bounced out and the ex-prince sank in chair, curling up with the packet of letters.

The front page was a standard greeting to new refugees, it described the association and its goals. Then came a list of persons and places to avoid, with a clear note to destroy the document once read. Those were the more vicious drule haters. A shorter list named friendly places and people. Unsurprisingly, Lotor found Kohana on the list. She apparently took lessons by a master right in the drule quarter, with full authorisation. He smiled, unsurprised, and noticed a folded slip of paper addressed personally to him, which he unfolded.

***** ***** *****

The pilots were tinkering in the lab. Hunk and Pidge were discussing the design of the cybernetic hand they were working on while Keith and Lance were reviewing their practice schedule. They all turned when the door slid open and Lotor entered the place almost timidly, holding a small piece of paper.

"Hey, campanule1..." Greeted Lance sarcastically, clearly not as a salute but as a mean to make the others notice he was there.

"Hey, come here, Lotor, come see the design of your future hand!" Called Hunk, always enthusiastic about new mech parts to build.

Glad to escape Lance's hostile gaze, the ex-prince went to Hunk's terminal and looked at the design that turned on itself on the 3D platform.

"We have a problem integrating certain circuits," explained Pidge. That's why its taking a long time. A hand can move a gazillion different ways. We can't seem to find a design that'll mimic the tendons properly and still permit enough circuitry..."

Lotor suggested a few changes that sunk Hunk deep in thought while Pidge stared at the ex-prince in surprise. The two submerged again in their design so completely that Lotor shrugged and turned to the commander, giving him the paper.

"Since I have to be 'supervised'," Lotor began with a strangled little growl, "I have to ask permission to respond to this invitation."

The drule was humiliated, but followed the rules. Keith was pleasantly surprised and read the short note. 'The village of the drule refugees have the honour to harbor the Khiaran Master Kovak. You are invited to a trial for lessons.' There was a string of characters Keith couldn't read, but Lance, reading over his shoulder, said that it was a date and time and a drulean salutation... to a royal, on which he commented that it was a bit outdated.

Lotor scowled and lifted his chin in defiance. He didn't like to be reminded he was striped of his rank.

"What exactly is a 'Khiaran Master'?" Asked Keith.

"Khiara is an ancient combat form using two swords," Lotor explained. "Its almost a lost art now, the masters are very rare and as old as dirt. I learned the art on mother's planet until age ten. I was then sent to the military academy2 where they did their best to make me unlearn it."

"Weapons are forbid – you know that."

"The masters use practice weapons. They are harmless."

"I saw pictures of that," threw in Lance. "Its similar to Kendo. Kendo masters can kill with their practice bamboo stick, though."

"I can kill just as well with my bare hand," argued Lotor. "Hausmann wants me to exercise and I can't abide training on static pieces of junk. We would practice in the forest and you can have an army with laser pistols aimed at me if you so wish. It'd still best pedalling to nowhere on those contraptions."

The two pilots looked reluctant.

"Look," Lotor continued, "I am bound to abide your values, that means I can't go murdering babies or mauling kittens. You know I'm already proficient with weapons. I would do no more harm. Its an honour to be invited to such a trial. I thought Khiaran masters extinct."

Lotor looked at the floor as if it harbored secrets, his one real hand tightened in a fist. He hated having to justify his moves and, even more humiliating, to ask permission.

"Father didn't like the art. Said they had this stupid code that made them override direct orders if it suited them. He killed all he could find. Not by fighting : he'd have lost. The masters are demons with swords. He had assassins use lasers, poison, you name it. They disappeared just about the same time our sorcerers did. It would be a way to infuriate father, if nothing else, that I would come back to something he hated with such passion."

"I would have to be present and armed," Keith conceded.

"Agreed. I don't care. The trials are in three weeks time." Lotor sighed. "Hausmann won't allow me sooner, " he added mournfully.

"Keep me informed."

"Don't remind me of my duties," the ex-prince growled, heading out, vainly trying to hide a limp.

Keith bristled at the tone, but didn't call Lotor on it. It was amazing enough he'd come directly to him, and it must have taken lots of nerve not to completely lose it.

"Well, at least he asked," he said, turning to Lance. "What do you think?"

"I think its better then it seems." Lance answered, thoughtful. "I know about those Khiarans. Khiara isn't only a combat form, it a code of conduct that goes with all kind of rules. They place respect of life above all else. Curious, for an art that teaches you how to kill, but hey, it's a drule thing. Maybe that guy can teach the campanule a bit or two about honour..."

"Care to tell me how it is you can read Drule?"

Lance just grinned.

1- A campanule is a kind of dainty bell-like blue flower. Lotor has no idea what it is... I think he would object the nickname! :-)

2- The fact that Lotor lived his first ten years of life on his mother's planet and that he was then sent to the Academy is a tribute to and is inspired by a fic from Tamysan I enjoyed a lot, The Redeemed and the Damned, with is rated M, well worth a read *if* you're of age.

Author Note:

I don't like re-writing at all, so it's a bit rushed, but I would be agonizingly slow if I waited to be completely satisfied with a chapter before posting. I hope the story connects correctly. Auuugh! re-writing... *bawls and cries over lost chapters...* After my computer fried, I uploaded my last back up and saw it was outdated. I salvaged what I could and then began to write all the rest of the fic by hand, so the last leg of the story will have to be typed. I still check traffic for my story, as you people don't review *hint, hint*, and I do have visitors (thanks for reading), so I figure I should make the effort.


	11. Ancient Arts

1**11- Ancient Arts**

Like in Kendo, in practice real swords were never used. The substitute weapons were swift, light and as rigid as a laser sword. Lotor was carrying two of these when Rose and Keith saw him come out of the castle. He was wearing the traditional costume as well, and it also resembled a Kendo outfit, minus the protection. To keep his hair out of his way, he had braided it. The black costume made him look every inch the villain.

A laser sword had all its weight in the hilt, so the handling of it was very different. And since it could cut through metal, you had to be very conscious at any given moment of the arcs you described with it, and of your environment. While it would slice right through a tree behind you without altering its course or its speed, the tree could fall on your head... This was why the master had chosen a practice ground in the forest.

Lotor felt a little self conscious as he walked towards them. He hadn't expected to meet anyone at this early, pink hour.

"Wow!" Exclaimed Rose as he passed by them. "You look awesome! A lean mean killing machine..."

"Don't say things like that, little flower," the ex-prince protested mildly. "I swore I'd behave. Besides these are harmless."

"They look real sharp to me," said Keith as he eyed the long dark blades.

Lotor handed him one of them.

"Ouch!" He exclaimed as he passed a finger on the blade. "They're not so harmless..."

"They're quite brittle. If they encounter anything except another similar blade they'll break. As for the cutting edge, it's to keep my wits sharp... That way, even with practice swords, you're very careful what your blades comes across."

"Can I see?" Asked Rose with her best puppy eyes.

"Watch me make a fool of myself, you mean? No way, flower. Its bad enough the commander will. It's been _years _and I barely remember anything. It'll take more then one practice to drive the Drule Academy out of my system."

"But you were good, you said."

"I was a kid! When I was presented to father I was ten, and all my Khiara training was driven out." Lotor eyes took a faraway look. "My old instructor was very hard to please... I would practice like a madman to get his approval. Most of the times he would either say nothing or he would correct me. No move was ever perfect, which is the way it should be. I resent him," he continued, pointing Keith, "seeing my new Master berate me."

"I'll love to see _that_," Keith quipped. "I've researched Khiara and it intrigues me. Fighting with two swords like that..."

"You mean you never tried? Its fantastic. That is when you begin to master it. But it does takes a few years of stepping on your pride, and that's hard for someone with as big an ego as I. I'm out of shape and I'll probably have to go through that torture again. It'll be hard enough, having an audience... "

"Don't worry, I'll appreciate it," said Keith with a mild smirk. "And don't tell me I got Rose out of bed so early for no reason. I'm really curious and I swear I'll _try _not to laugh. Besides, as commander its my duty to know just how dangerous you are."

"Pleeeaase, let me come," pleaded Rose, taking hold of his sleeve and giving him a good dose of her undescribably cute eyes.

The prince sighed. The Commander was in charge of him. In theory, he could order him to do whatever he wished. He was asking politely, but it might as well have been an order.

"It's your planet. But I warn you. The moves are quite repetitive and boring."

With that, Lotor went to his first practice. He heard the two insufferable snoops following him. He was resentful, no, make that angry, but he'd promised his mother...

He remembered his training and tried to calm himself. Be conscious of what surrounds you, the master had said, and use it. But don't let it cloud your mind. Your mind is a silent lake. Yeah, right, he thought. But he gave it a real try. He concentrated on the forest, something that always soothed him. He hadn't done that since he was a child. He called it opening your mind to the green then. To his surprise he quickly became quite calm, exactly as he did in the past, feeling one with his surroundings. When he met his new master, his mind was a silent lake. Kovak was very old, but then, all Khiara masters seemed ancient. He was a thin and wiry drule with very dark blue skin, large pointed ears and golden eyes. With his long nose, he looked rather like an elongated fox bat. He seemed very fragile, but Lotor knew he could probably slice anyone of them in ribbons in moments. He saluted.

"Welcome, master Lotor."

He presented his two swords in the opening position.

"Let's first see what you got..."

And he charged. Lotor was surprised at how automatic was his response. He was a talented swordsman, the best the drule academy had turned out, but that was mostly because of his Khiara training. After having handled two swords for years, fighting with only one had seemed ridiculously easy at the time. He had feared that this lack would have left a large gap in his training. But the body remembered. What was left of it anyway. He couldn't control the false arm with that much finesse. He forced himself to stay calm and actually managed to hold a good two minutes before Kovak disarmed him with a truly dizzying speed. Both his practice swords fell in the grass, and Lotor was utterly exhausted. He sank on his knees, gasping. He had known this would happen of course... the masters were wizards with the things.

"Now that this is settled, we will go through the sequence one. Do you remember it?"

"I don't think I remember any of the sequences, master."

« Then you will relearn. »

Lotor had completely forgotten his audience by now. With his master, he immersed himself in the half remembered sword dance, a sequence of moves not unlike the kata in karate. Keith was watching in utter fascination. Rose had known he'd love it, for Keith was a swordsman too, and he had never seen a real Khiara master. She liked the way his jaw had dropped when the fight had begun. The speed was amazing, and the moves had a deadly elegance. She murmured :

"The master didn't fight at his max, you know..."

"You know Khiara quite well, it seems."

"I should... I'm learning it. Kovak is just too cool. And he won't pressure you or anything, he's very kind. It would be such fun, Keith, if you took training too!"

"What? And having Lotor, who his way ahead of me, laugh at me?"

"Ow, come on. You're awful good with a blade and you would take to this in no time. They say Khiara will be a lost art if there are no new adepts. That'd be a shame. There's only a few masters left, and they are all very old."

"So _that_'s why you insisted coming, my little intrigue weaver."

"Sure...Look at you," she said impishly. "You're all starry eyed."

"We almost never use swords anymore, you know," Keith argued. "Keen piloting skills are more useful. My training time is best used in a spaceship."

"Ow, get real, Keith. You are a _perfect_ pilot. Your training in the lions is just overkill. It bores Lance to _tears!_"

"You and Lance spend WAY too much time together."

"Think of it, at least..."

They were talking low, not wanting to disturb the fascinating duet. Kovak and Lotor matched each other move for move with the black blades swirling around them. It seemed impossible, but even if they worked close to each other, their blades never touched. Kovak was this close on purpose. He wanted to see if his student was conscious of space. It was an unexpected pleasure for him. This young man had an astounding potential, and he was already well trained. As for the reflexes...

Without warning Kovak turned on Lotor again. And again, he responded without thinking. Of course Kovak beat him in no time, but the reaction had been very swift! Kovak was quite pleased.

"Well," he said indifferently. "There is work to do young one. You're out of shape. And we'll have to practice with that fake right arm. I can see it's unnatural to you. Be here tomorrow."

Lotor came out of his strange trance and saluted, not phased by the lack of praise. The masters almost never gave any. He felt like falling on the spot and sleeping for the rest of the day, and he hurt everywhere. He didn't regret having lost his bodybuilder muscles, though. Khiara was an art requiring finesse and speed, not strength. But he was thin and wasted, and he felt terrible after this bout of intense exercise. Kovak left and Lotor sat down rather abruptly in the grass. Rose came running.

"That was truly awesome, Lotor. I'm learning Khiara too, you know, so I can tell..."

"I'm beat. I don't even think I can make it back to the castle," Lotor answered, panting. I'm surprised I even remembered all this.

Rose had a bag and got out a bottle of water. She handed it to him and he gratefully drank all of it.

"That's one thing you didn't remember... bring water. We could practice together sometimes, that is if you want to..."

Those eyes again. Lotor sighed. They were such a formidable weapon.

Keith, for some unknown reason, seemed very perplex, even embarrassed. Lotor smiled for he suspected little flower here had pushed him into a corner. He said so.

"You're right," Keith admitted. "That girl is a public danger, I say. It doesn't show, on the surface all you see is the angel. And underneath is the dictator-for-life of the galaxy."

"So," said Lotor with a smirk, "what are you going to do about it?"

Keith looked at Rose in mock fright.

"I don't know about you, but I try to do exactly as Her Majesty commands. It's more trouble to avoid her wishes then to accommodate them. She's even worse then Nanny, who at least is _not _cute. But if I do give in to her, you'll have to swear you won't laugh. I didn't..."

"Laugh? At what?"

"Just swear it."

"I'm talking him into learning Khiara," said Rose with a smirk mirroring Lotor's.

The ex-prince laughed. Keith grabbed some wet moss and threw it at him.

"All right. I'll swear as you did. I promise I'll _try_ not to laugh."

Keith scowled and left, leaving the two giggling accomplices with exaggerated dignity. In truth he was curious about Khiara, but it was an old and dead art, not considered very useful in this age of giant robots and mechanical armies. Besides, it was so enmeshed in the drule culture. Oh, what the heck, he thought. It doesn't cost much to give it a try. But if those two snicker, he thought, I'll kick the his blue butt and tickle the little Rose till she can't move.

As if on cue, he met master Kovak, who appeared to be waiting for him at the side of the path.

"Well, commander, will we see you tomorrow?"

Keith was aghast.

"Don't tell me you were in this plot as well?"

"Actually it was my idea. You're a very good swordsman."

"I don't think so." Keith hesitated. The drule looked so hopeful! He explained. "It's the pilot's practice time. This has priority."

"I'm sure we can work a different schedule, young human. It would be an honour for me to teach two talented students, it is a rare treat for a master."

"You told Frosty there that he had a lot of work to do, and I thought he was amazing. Don't tell him I said that, though. Besides he would just laugh at me, I never handled two swords."

"He would not... He knows I would not tolerate it. Khiara students are supposed to control their response, and we do not mock each other. As for my telling him he needs to work, well it's true... Don't expect praise too often from a Khiara master."

The fox faced master smiled kindly. It was very strange for Keith to see such an expression on a drule face.

"Anyway, it's your decision," Kovak said. "I'll be here tomorrow, same place, say two hours later. How about accompanying an old drule back home?"

"Sure..."

And they started down the path side by side. The commander could see where Rose had acquired her manipulative skills... The wily old master tried to seduce him into the art all the way to the village. They passed colourful streets and flowered alleys. Then they arrived in a quarter that was visibly mid-class. Even farther, they passed a door that isolated a part of the village. Inside were all the drule refugees. Keith had known that they had a kind of ghetto like this, but he was seeing it for the first time. The drules lived in barracks. The buildings were well maintained and looked comfortable, but they had a distinct lack of personality. They were uniform and drab, and everything was functional with no frills or fantasy. Keith was surprised to see many dogs around. Dozens of small gardens dotted the place. The drule refugees paused in their gardening and looked at him as if he'd sprouted wings. He guessed that not many humans came to visit. They didn't appear hostile, though. They looked frightened. They obviously feared him. Kovak stopped in front of a barrack.

"There we are, Commander. Home, sweet home, like you humans say..."

It didn't look like a home to Keith. A sleeping place maybe. He remembered having read on the net that many had protested against giving the refugees anything at all. He sighed.

"Ok, master Kovak, I will give it one try. Its good exercise. If I approve we'll try to work it in the training agenda. Not to become experts, mind you, but for the workout. I guess I could have said that sooner, you just wasted a good hour of propaganda..."

"Not propaganda, Commander," the master said gently. "Call it gentle publicity. We drules have had our fill of propaganda with Zarcon. See where it brought us? The madman actually thought he would rule the entire galaxy, and most of us were naive enough to buy his brainwashing discourse. I would not force you into anything, it would equate me to that creature. Those who choose to stay have had it with dictators."

"I guess you have." Keith smiled. "Besides, I am intrigued by Khiara. I make no promises, but we'll be there if I can manage to work it out... Good day, Master."

"See you tomorrow, Commander."

Kovak gave a complicated salute. Keith hurried back at the castle. Rose was waiting for him at the north gate with expectant eyes.

"You got me into this, you insufferable little shrew," he accused.

"Hurray! I knew you'd come!"

"Only to train, though. Is there any time at all when you don't get your way? I think you're long overdue. How's 'Ma', anyway? We hardly ever see her anymore." 'Not that it isn't a good thing,' thought the commander.

"She not well these days, answered Rose. She's depressed. I even accepted to wear pink to cheer her up... And that's a major sacrifice. I loathe pink. I think maybe she's colour blind and sees baby pink as a beautiful colour."

"She used to drive us crazy with her demands."

"Well, she's restricted her dictatorship to the servants. But she's not really that bad, you know. Mostly they do as you did, they ignore her. She is very kind to me. She sort of gave up on me and lets me dress as I want with just a glower. Doctor Hausmann says she should retire, her heart is fatigued and its risky for her to get into her fits. But she'll never do that. She gets bored if she sits for more then half a minute without lecturing someone. I'm trying to talk her into writing a book on proper etiquette. That way she could lecture on paper. She certainly is an expert."

"No one can dispute her that..."

"She says if she does write that book she'll title it All The Things I Tried To Teach Rose."

Keith laughed and they continued to chat amiably as they entered the castle complex.

As for Lotor, he was still in the glade, trying to work some energy back in his muscles, but mostly he appreciated the calm effect green nature had on him. Well. He definitely could do without the insects here. But some of them were really fascinating. They looked like ultra-perfectionned, tiny machines built for a specific purpose. He started to daydream again about his younger days, when he began designing robeasts. How the drule engineers, all loyal to Zarcon to the point of folly, had laughed at some of his ideas. He hadn't felt humiliated then : he took their rejection as a compliment, the fools being such incompetents. He supplied them instead with what they wanted : monstrous, big designs, truly inefficient machines. But they _looked_ real impressive. It kept those idiots happy.

He then remembered the pleasure he had building his delicate butterflies. He was not stupid enough to think his enemies would let him work on real machines, but how could they refuse him paper? Having found new purpose he made his way back to the castle and asked the first servant he saw to find him a bunch of large sheets. The human looked blank. Lotor tried again : large sheets of paper.

"...Paper, sir?" Asked the frightened servant, a lad of about fifteen.

"Well, they won't let me have a computer. It would help me pass the time. Walking through this castle all day bores me and it irritates me when your kind jumps out of my way. I do not _eat_ humans as a pastime. Actually, I draw."

"You do?" Said the boy, a little surprised at this detail about the prince.

"Mechanical design," the drule explained.

"Oh," said the lad, looking a little disappointed. "Well, I'll see what I can find."

"Thank you."

"Er... You're welcome, Sir."

And he fled. As previously ordered he went directly to the Commander and told him about the request.

"I don't see any harm in that. It will occupy his time. Have him equipped with everything he'll need. Go to Hunk, he'll help you to find the stuff, he knows all about it since he draws his things by hand too sometimes. In this ancient place they must have a drawing table somewhere..."

"Drawing table? You mean tablet."

"No. In the old day drawings, even industrial design, was done by hand on those things."

The lad went to Hunk, who happened to have an entire collection of those antiques. It filled an huge room near the top of the castle and resembled nothing less as a Museum on the Art of Building Machines after a tornado. The explorer was quite enthusiastic about the junk and quite prepared to describe each item, but he saw the boy's eyes and just showed him what to take.

When Lotor saw all that he couldn't believe it. Where in the quadrant had they found such treasures! He smiled in pure delight. The same lad was there and he dutifully said :

"Those belong to master Hunk. I'm told to inform you that... er," the boy backed a step, "if you damage them he'll replug you wired all wrong and you'll end up with your arm..."

"...Well?"

"It was gross, sir. I'd really rather not tell..."

Lotor smiled evilly.

"Don't worry, human, if its so bad you won't say, I can figure it out."

The frightening drule smiled again, more softly this time. For a moment there, he almost looked amiable. Still, when the servants were finished they fled as Lotor surveyed the new items in his tiny realm, as if they were afraid he'd find something he didn't like...

The ex-prince immediately went to work, finding great pleasure at doing this with his hands, and marvelling how the artificial one was keeping up.

That hand was extraordinary, and its range of movement elevated Lotor's respect for Hunk a hundred notch. He had always counted the yellow lion pilot as a negligible quantity, but now he knew he'd been wrong. He had known since the twitching arm incident. The man was truly brilliant, but too modest or timid. He was also blessed with selfless kindness, he hadn't had any obligation to do this for their prisoner.

But such musings were unfamiliar to the ex-prince, and he was soon immersed in his designs. He worked late into the night, putting on papers ideas he had let take the dust for years and years. It gave him a keen pleasure, and he fell asleep on the ancient table, amidst drawings of fantastic mechanical insects. The top sheet of yellowed paper depicted one of them delicately perched on the hand of his love.

***** ***** *****

Author note :

That chapter was one I could save from the crash, but I have to re-write the next and Real Life is quite well packed this week. I'll try to finish the next chapter though, because that one was fun to write the first time around, I'll probably enjoy it this time as well.

**Update : found a way to check my grammar, yeah!** Sorry to those who read the 2 last chapters with all the mistakes, irk, It was terrible. Apologies!


	12. Triangle

Had an unexpected break today. Wrote a couple of chapters. :-) Voltron mine is not. :-(

Lotor being excellent in mechanical design is based on two things. First, if I remember well, its said in the 3D version that he's the one who figured out how to ditch their dependance on Lazon. Secondly, its a tribute to a fic I read a long time ago, in which Lotor built his own revolutionary ship. It was before the 3D show. I don't remember where I read this story, nor the title. If anyone knows, tell me so I can offer proper credits. That particular fic was unfinished, which is a shame, it was so good. It had Hazar as well, and he and Lotor were friends.

A note here, I have nothing against blue bloods, I warn you that in this fic many nobles are complete jerks, but remember its a fic and another planet, and its just to serve the story. Arisians crème de la crème is a xenophobic pack. Its not my take on earth ones, who no doubt have as many different personalities as there are individuals.

This chapter was fun to write, and re-write. :-)

1**12- Triangle**

"I want all of you on your best behaviour," commanded Allura while pacing, her pink skirt fluttering in an attempt to keep up with her legs. "Prince Nikolai of Cerillia will visit Aris on a diplomatic overture to join the Alliance."

"Cerillia?", asked Lance, "Isn't that the smallish empire that sold its soul to Zarcon in the conflict?"

"Yes. But now their king is ill, and the son wants to turn a new leaf and open commercial channels. It would help my strategic position overall to convince this group to join the Alliance. The prince proposed Aris as a neutral ground, specifically asking that I head the negotiations."

Allura sopped and looked straight at them, chin high, back ramrod straight and with her hands clasped at her back.

"This is an ancient monarchy, gents. We allowed you leeway in court, but in this instance proper behaviour and attire will be expected at all times."

She continued relentlessly, her targets a bit wide-eyed at her use of the Royal 'We.'

"Lance, no dirty jokes. Pidge, no cutting remark that'll tell them you're smarter then they are. Hunk, don't offer them junk food or help to upgrade whatever mechanical device they use.. Keith, Do you still have that formal Commander uniform?"

"Er... Alas?"

"Wear it. Each of you will have to be properly attired. Nanny is seeing to it."

That elicited a pained groan from the boys. Nanny in charge of their formal wardrobe? Disaster. They hated formal visits; the demeaning looks of blue bloods had a way of making you feel lower then dirt. Most of them made it quite clear you were mere peasants just by using subtle gestures and insinuations against which there is no defence, unless you wanted to create a scene or even a diplomatic incident. The Arisian upper crust was bad enough... visiting royalty was sure to be hell...

"As long as its not pink," conceded Hunk with a sigh.

"Well, you can tell Nanny to skip whatever she had in mind for me," said Lance, "I'll find something on my own, thank you very much."

"Well at least have Nanny approve it. The prince and his retinue will arrive in a week." Allura favoured Hunk and Pidge a pointed look. "Please unclutter the work lab. It wouldn't do to have anybody step on a candy wrapper or a vital mech part, which are, I regret to say, equally distributed all over the floor."

Hunk whistled in a decidedly non-apologetic way as he fled to his afore mentioned lab, shortly followed by his companions who suddenly found urgent tasks be immediately taken care of. Allura smiled. Those four could take on monstrous robeasts without batting an eye, but talk wardrobe and they chickened out with the best of them.

***** ***** *****

True to form, Lance reappeared two days later, dashing in a black long coat, impeccable black riding boots, a frilly off-white shirt that put to mind an elegant corsair, and his longish hair tied back with a black velvet ribbon. He commented that if Keith of the Black Lion wore red, he of the Red might as well wear black, it would confuse the gentry. He even got out of hiding his numerous medals, an impressive row on his lapels. He looked like a rogue Prince. The servants that were scurrying, polishing the furniture to perfection, instinctively curtsied. He beamed at them. Preening in his best superior strut, he smirked at the princess.

"Nice outfit, ne?"

Allura had to admit that it was, wide-eyed and cheeks rosy.

Keith had no major problems, the castle seamstresses readjusted his uniform to fit his muscled shoulders. He was happy the shoulders needed widening while the waist still fit perfectly. Training hard has definite perks. He gave the Red Lion pilot fierce competition in this military cut formal wear, looking like an admiral. He even had a short shoulder cape, but chose not to wear it. He too had a lot of medals, and he and Lance teased each good naturedly on which set was the most glorious, not that they cared all that much. They wore them just to placate the more disdainful blue-bloods.

Pidge was understandably worried, he didn't have formal wear and was at the complete mercy of Nanny, never an enviable fate, especially concerning clothing. He was awfully relieved when the servants presented him a dark green uniform very similar in cut to the commander's. It was tastefully trimmed in gold. Pidge was embarrassed the first time he wore it, the females servants goggled at him as if seeing him for the first time. The looks he received were a bit predatory, something he wasn't used to at all. He blushed a lot at all the waggled eyebrows and appreciative smiles. He resolve to hide in the lab for the duration of the cerillian prince's visit.

Hunk adamantly refused the burnt orange uniform, or costume as he called it. The seamstresses worked diligently and replaced this with a deep gray formal suit, almost black, with golden yellow satin stripes on the sides of the pants, and in place of a jacket he had a long coat that barely missed the floor, with gold cordon that made him look like an legendary giant.

All decked out, they decided to put on a show for Allura and went to see her in a four-wide formation. Everybody cleared the corridors to let them pass, stopping whatever they were doing in admiration. The formidable quatuor presented themselves to Allura and Coran. The dignitary gaped, and Allura blushed.

***** ***** *****

Lotor was in his room, gazing out his window with narrowed eyes. From his vantage point he could see the castle entrance. The cerillian ship had landed and in moments he would be able to see prince Nikolai and his dignitaries. He recalled the cerillian king, a wily snake, that one, and notoriously ugly.

He had seen Nikolai when they were both kids, and they had hated each other instantly, as was common among royal children in his circle. He barely remembered the snot-nosed brat. He fervently hoped Nikolai grew up to look like his genitor.

His hopes were crushed when the prince appeared : Nikolai looked like the epitome of human perfection in a splendid white and gold uniform. Lotor though his white hairs beat any other, but he had to admit Nikolai's golden mane was a close second. His face was handsome and virile. Lotor couldn't see the eye colour from this far, but he bet they were blue or even worse, green, making this human a male god. He was also taller then all the pilots, but this didn't bring Lotor any pleasure. He hated how beautiful the cerillian prince was, as pretty as he himself had become repulsive. His teeth grit as he saw Allura was greeting the man and his retinue with all the protocol. Nikolai bowed politely and kissed her hand.

Furiously jealous, the ex-prince trembled in suppressed rage, growling and closing his eyes, not wanting to witness any more. He suddenly shivered in something he would never admit to be fear. A strange sensation crawled along his spine, and he turned around, cranked up the heat in the room, going back to his drawing in an attempt to stop raging on the arrival of this new contender.

***** ***** *****

The charming prince Nikolai was again closeted with Allura and Coran, deep in interstellar diplomacy. Keith kept himself occupied, trying to ignore his growing apprehension. Was it his imagination or did the prince make headway with Allura? And if so, what right had he to judge, the princess was free to like, show good manners and smile coquettishly to anyone she damn well pleased.

The pilots found excuses to be absent most of the time. When they were obligated to mingle, they kept as close as they could. Surprisingly, Lotor gravitated toward them, preferring their proximity to that of cerillians. They couldn't understand because the cerillians simpered a lot to royals, and they obviously still considered him high-ranked.

Such encounters ceased when Lotor retreated in his room, seemingly decided to camp there until the delagation was gone.

Keith's dislike Nikolai grew daily. The man was just too perfect. He had nice conversationnal skills, he supposed, because he often obtained the princess' marvelous little bell laugh. He was perfectly handsome, and Nanny fussed a lot over him. Coran seemed completely taken as well. Keith couldn't understand why. While spectacularly blond, glittery and imposing, the decorative prince didn't exude the quarter of the intensity Lotor achieved only with his dark, unadorned formal robe. Not that Keith would ever admit it out loud. Hating the cerillian had to be the first thing they agreed on.

The commander passed as much time as he could in practice, in two, three or four lions formations. Allura was tied with her diplomatic duties and it seemed a good time for this.

"Keith, we've been practising this formation for a full hour now," remarked Lance from Red Lion, annoyed with this morning's dual exercise. "Do you want to try another combo before I close my eyes just to see if I can make this figure blind? I'm bored."

He smirked, and added : "I think someone is distracted by a certain princes, wooing certain princesses..."

"Shut up, Lance. Or do you want me to trigger the x33 scenario?"

"Hehe... Bull's eye! So Nikolai is competition, ne? Just think how the campanule must be handling this..."

"I can 'almost' sympathise. Nikolai is perfect, and I'm pretty sure Nanny is going through every wedding magazine she can get her hands on to find..."

"...a pink wedding dress," they said in unison.

***** ***** *****

Lotor had spent the last few days in his room, drawing plans and schematics. He requested to be excused from the meals and asked to have his food served here. He'd been surprised that the commander granted this immediately, not requiring any explanation. Perhaps he thought Lotor wouldn't be able to resist strangling Nikolai on sight, which was a fair estimate.

After a few days, though, the ex-prince was going steer crazy. Ever since the Bastille 12 prison sentence, he intensely disliked being enclosed. He supposed he wouldn't come across too many persons if he chose to go out very early in the morning to indulge in his spying on the princess.

He wasn't sure she would even be in her garden; autumn had left the place desolate, and the tasks left in preparation for winter where not very appealing. The gray sky, threatening snow, didn't help matters. He perked up when he saw her.

The princess was faithful to her beloved garden, she was there, pleasantly discussing with the chief gardener while they were digging up bulbs. Lotor crouched in his favourite bush and observed. He'd missed spying like this, and indulged in his infatuation, his half mast eyes drinking in the beauty of Allura.

But then, he came. The porcelain doll prince Nikolai. He went to the princess and began small talk with her. Lotor burned with the desire to slice the bastard! Slowly. Very slowly. He couldn't hear what they said, but he could see them rushing in when cold rain began to pour, giggling all the way back to the castle.

He lost it. It took all his strength and courage just to avoid catching up and strangling the cerillian. He rose, trembling in restraint. Turning his back on the scene was one of the hardest things he had ever done. He had to find an outlet for his rage or explode. He fled in the forest.

***** ***** *****

"Where the hell is he?" cried Keith in frustration. The commander was just coming back from a meeting he had been invited to attend, and he was furious for many reasons. First, it was the only seance of the diplomatic effort he'd been invited to, and he couldn't place a single word. The cerillian diplomats acted as if he was a guard dog, never once looking at him. Secondly, Keith thought that this had been a complete waste of his time, which would have been better used revising strategies with the pilots. And third, and not least, he had to look as Nikolai subtly worked his charm on Allura. And now Lotor had failed to report.

"Calm down, Keith." Hunk suggested. "Blueberry is probably just as frustrated as you, and wrecking something in some corner. We'll find him."

Keith sighed.

"Ok. Hunk, search the temple and surrounding area. Pidge, east wing ok to you? And Lance, take the south, and I'll cover the north."

Hunk had his sources in the castle; he went directly to the kitchens. Castles servants were a tight knit group and extraordinarily observant. The gossip always made its way to the kitchens, the unofficial meeting ground of all the castle personnel. He was jovially greeted upon entering their domain, and asked if they'd seen Lotor while filching a conveniently placed pastry.

A gardener in dirty coverall was helping himself in the same stash and declared he had been working in the garden when he saw the flash of white hair retreating in the forest.

"In this rain?"

"Yep."

Hunk called Lance. "you're the closest to the garden. I know its raining hard, but..."

"I'm on it," answered Lance. "If he is outside, I have a pretty good idea where he might be."

"Thanks, bro," said Hunk, relieved to avoid the cold rain and the winds. "I owe you one."

In gratitude he had the kitchen staff prepare warm food for the sure-to-be-drenched pilot.

***** ***** *****

Lance followed his instinct straight to the khiara practice ground. He was right : the enraged prince was going through the seventeen khiara sequences. Not the slow, elegant sword dance, but a furious, dizzying race, his practice swords flashing, his hair plastered on soaked formal robes and flowing on his contorted face. He seemed completely absorbed, and Lance kept a prudent distance, not liking the way he could see the drule's fangs.

It was almost dusk, and Lance wondered how long the ex-prince had been at it.

Suddenly the drule slipped on the cold, wet grass and missed a move in the sequence. He screamed in rage, bringing both his practice swords in a swooping arc above his head and down onto a sapling. The small tree barely moved, but the brittle blades exploded in thousands of fragments, glittering as they fell with the rain.

This shook Lotor out of his self induced trance.

"Have you been here long, human?" Lotor asked without looking.

"I thought it best to keep a distance."

"It was a good idea."

"Are you about done?" He asked, not unkindly.

Lotor sighed, realising he'd been fighting his rage for hours. The cold hit him and he hugged himself miserably, trying to fend it off.

Lance refrained from joking. The drule was spent and looked about to collapse. He felt he if he got Lotor to spend one more calory he would fall and he'd have to drag him all the way to the castle. Besides even he couldn't find anything humourous in this scene. So he shrugged, offered a soft "let's get inside" and started his way back, the ex-prince following sullenly.

***** ***** *****

Author note : Two scenes in the fic inspired the entire story. The first one was Lotor flying his ship into the sun, being pleasantly numb, and seeing a black spot that would turn out to be red lion. The second one was the scene where he breaks his two swords in the rain. I really envisionned the wet hair and the brittle, black fragments flying off in all directions. Lance is there in both, but then, he is my favorite pilot.


	13. Shivering

Voltron universe isn't mine. If it was, I'd ditch Pidge's outfit, poor guy.

1**13- Shivering**

Keith was relieved that the errant ex-prince had been located. He was still frustrated with his meeting with hollow discoursed diplomats, and Lotor presented a nice target. He stomped to the drule's quarters as soon as Lance reported the campanule was in.

Lotor was shivering. The warm shower dry clothes had helped, but he was still freezing. He sat on the bed, wearily passing a brush through the wet strands of his hair, when the commander barged in.

"You are supposed to report yourself twice a day," he began angrily. "We have big wigs all over the place and you choose that precise moment to disappear on us. Give me one good reason not to completely confine you! Whatever possessed you to do that anyway?"

The ex-prince put the brush on a desk and looked at the floor a long moment before answering.

"Commander, we have ever been rivals in everything," he began. "In war and in love. I'm a finished man and you..."

He looked up at him with disgust before continuing, speaking with a deadly soft tone of voice.

"You're still as sickeningly dashing as ever. You know I want the princess for myself. I'm nothing but an exile now. I can offer her no riches, no power, and certainly not beauty. About the only thing I can offer her now is the freedom she asked for. And above all I wish for her to be happy and worry free."

Lotor's voice became a sad whisper.

"That desire is so strong, Commander, that I would rather let _you_ win her love... instead of that obsequious sycophant. At least I know you'll do everything to insure her happiness. But him?" Lotor continued furiously, finding some hidden reservoir of energy, "I wish I could slice him to ribbons. I swore to my mother I would try to live by your standards, and that I wouldn't try to... I'm bound to that promise. It was either flee or _murder_ the oily court tramp. I didn't know where to run and Khiara seemed the best way to work out my fury."

Lotor sighed.

"I'm an enemy forced into cooperation. You don't trust me and you would never take my doubts seriously. Your Coran is fawning over the idiot as if he'd found a rare gem. They are all so disgustingly happy to see an 'eligible' candidate drool over Allura at last. Oh, he's a prince all right. But you of all persons should know that this is _not_ a quality."

Keith was impressed in spite of himself. He looked at the exhausted drule, his yellow eyes still blazing with frustration. There was an embarrassing silence as Keith calmed down and Lotor picked yet another blanket to wrap himself in.

"If that's any help at all," Keith said at last, "for once I agree with you. There's something about this man... I don't trust him either. But we're both biased... And Allura seems to really like him. Maybe we're just jealous, prince."

"Don't call me prince." Lotor's eyes narrowed. "I'm just a defeated half-drule now. I have nothing left but my Khiara code. The sycophant is alive; that should satisfy you. I won't divide him up in quarters, even though I sure wish I could."

Just then there was a knock on the door, and Lance, Pidge and Hunk came in, carrying mugs of hot chocolate and toasted sandwiches for everyone.

"So," said Lance. "We have our two Romeos united for almost half an hour in a closed room and they are still both alive! They say war makes strange bedfellows, now I see the same can be said of romance..."

"Shut up," said Keith and Lotor in a surprising unison.

Lance laughed.

"I rest my case... Anyways, we thought it was important to have a little pajama party here. You hate this Nikolai fellow, don't you, blue boy?"

"That should be obvious by now."

"What's not so obvious," said Pidge, "is that we all feel the same. The man gives us the creeps."

"Point is," Hunk added, "that the next time you think something fishy is going on, don't assume we'll necessarily disagree with you."

"You... you doubt his sincerity?" Asked a perplexed Lotor.

"We sure do!" Answered Hunk.

The big man handed him a mug and a sandwich.

"Take that before you die of hypothermia. Listen. Destiny kind of forced us to work together, and that means it goes both sides."

"If you'd come to us instead of dashing out like that," added Pidge, "you'd have found out that we share your opinion. We're all afraid for the princess, even if we don't have Pavlov's reflex like you two when we see her..."

Keith scowled. Lotor looked blank. What the hell was Pavlov's reflex?

"They are actually making fun of us, Lotor. Har har har," groused Keith. "But seriously, what will we do about this? We cannot stick to Nikolai like shadows, he's a royal guest... plus he's got diplomatic immunity."

"Well..." began Lotor hesitatingly.

"What?" Inquired Pidge.

"I had this idea for a spying device."

"Your butterflies?"

"Not a butterfly, that would be too conspicuous in the castle. But a crawling insect..."

Lotor got up, not caring that all his blankets fell to the floor. His caftan hung sadly on his frame, he was as thin as a reed. He rummaged through piles of papers.

"I hate inaction. It makes me think too much. I had those designs in my head for a long time now, but father doesn't like small machines. The bigger the monster, the better. I always thought exactly the opposite, and I've been using my free time here putting all those old ideas on paper."

Paper? Pidge raised his eyebrows in surprise but immediately remembered that the rules their prisoner was bound to included a ban on anything electronic.

"Here's the schematic," Lotor said, presenting several sheets to Hunk. "Could you build that? A centipede spybot. It could follow everywhere. It has composite eyes that analyze hundreds of points of light to rebuild an image. Its only black and white, otherwise it'd be too big, and the radius is wide. There is some distortion, but we can write a script to rebuild the image onscreen."

"I can do that," said Pidge, observing the plan.

"And I can build the critter," added Hunk. "It's a rather cool bug, at that. We could use the same material your mask is made of."

"That's what I thought. It would make the plates supple and they'd glide on one another noiselessly."

"Yeah! That'd make it virtually identical to the real thing. And it could crawl like a real centipede, and stick on the ceilings."

"It's truly fiendish, that thing, guys," said Pidge. "I could devise a way to program some autonomy, and add to that a way to command it by remote. It really could go anywhere. And I could program..."

They became immersed in the creation of the spying centipede. Keith and Lance looked at each other in amazement. The three were discussing this new spying device with enthusiasm, and between sandwiches they added features, finding new functions. They looked like kids engaged in a fascinating game. Suddenly Lotor sneezed. He went back to his blankets, shivering violently.

"Ok, guys, said the commander, It's late and we're all tired. Since you seem to think this spybot will work, let's do it... But tomorrow."

"If our engineer is still alive in the morning," said Lance.

"By the way, Lotor," Keith asked, "did you get it?"

"What?"

"Sequence seventeen."

"Of course not. Khiara never works when I'm mad. I made it to sixteen, though. When seventeenth failed, the tree paid for it. Master Kovak will kill me. Losing it like that and breaking my swords..."

"I think he'll understand."

They went out and the ex-prince just curled on his bed, loosely draped the bundle of blankets over himself and was asleep in seconds.


	14. The Opponents

1**14- The Opponents**

The thick rain clouds moved on in the night. Silver moonlight caressed the castle and insinuated itself in the ex-prince's room. Its touch gave a magical sheen to his white hair, now dry and flowing on the pillow. His strangely divided face seemed at peace, and in the pale light it had beauty, something he was totally unaware of. His self image had died in the crash. It gave him a kind of innocence, this loss of self awareness. The carefully hidden vulnerability that replaced it and the unconscious elegance of his moves made him beautiful.

But that serene expression was suddenly replaced with a frown. Beads of sweat appeared, gleaming like pearls. The prisoner was dreaming.

That place at the very bottom of castle Doom. The temple. It filled him with fear. It was lit, but somehow it was dark as well. He saw again the place Hagar had showed him : the autel, the statues of the five monsters. He didn't know how to call those things. They vaguely resembled hyenas, but the jaws looked more like a shark's. Theirs forelegs had long fingered, clawed paws, and the rear legs were bird like, with the articulations bent the wrong way, leathery toes ended by razor sharp talons. They were a dark grey and had bat-like wings. Their eyes were bright and glowed in four colors : red, yellow, green and blue. The fifth had black holes where the eyes should have been .

Suddenly Lotor realized with horror why the place had seemed familiar. The disposition, the size, everything looked like a demonic parody of the temple of the lions on Aris. He slowly backed away, wanting to be out of this place.

And then he felt them. The invasion in his mind. The entities wormed their way in his consciousness, and to Lotor it felt as if a foul liquid was flowing in a clear river. He had never thought of his mind as a clear river before. He tried to run away, and the spiritual tendrils slithered in his thoughts like long reaching serpents. They radiated such pure malevolence that he screamed in agony and terror, as something unnameable raped his mind.

***** ***** *****

Lance had been irritated when they had selected this room for the prisoner; it was right next to his. It bothered him to have to play nice with the son of his most hated enemy. While Zarcon held fast to his first position in the book of Lance's least favorite persons, Lotor was not far behind.

When he heard the awful, agonized screaming, he thought for a second, 'yeah, he bit himself. Now his own venom is killing the snake'. But all the same, he got up, took a weapon and ran to Lotor's room, expecting anything from Hagar to a robeast. Now that he had busted in, he saw it was just a nightmare. Well. Lotor did deserve to suffer a little. 'I don't have to wake him, he thought, just admire the show...'

Still, upon observation, this didn't look like an ordinary nightmare; anyone would have awakened by now. And was it his imagination, or was the space around the prince darker then it should be? He saw him as if through a black veil of mist. He could have sworn it moved. It recoiled from him. He took a step toward it and the thing retreated. He ordered the lights on, and in a split second the mist was gone, fast enough to make one think his imagination was playing tricks on him. Lance had learned to trust his instincts, though. Something _was_ there. It was gone now, and Lotor woke with a start, naked terror painted on his face. Even upon seeing Lance he didn't bother to hide his fear. Tears leaked out of his real eye, and he brokenly started to speak in drule. Lance spoke drule fairly well, but the prince was just going too fast with his changed, soft voice. He understood something about keeping them away from him.

"Hello! Aris to Lotor! Slow down or revert to intergalact!"

It was as if Lotor couldn't see or hear him, he was so lost in his shock, and Lance grabbed him to shake him out of it.

"Wake up, dammit!"

He shook him enthusiastically, enjoying it a little. Lotor gradually calmed down. He looked around him with a wild look as if to make sure he was really there. Now seated on his bed, he brought his blankets to his chest like a frightened child.

"That was some nightmare," said Lance.

"I've known fear like that," Lotor began shakily, "only twice in my recent life. I don't think it was a nightmare."

"Anything we should know about?"

"Y..yes. I know it sounds craven," Lotor admitted, "but I don't even think I can talk about it just now."

Coming from the prideful ex-prince, that was quite a statement. He was still shaking and nervous. The pilot could have sworn he was on the verge of tears. It made Lance uneasy, to see that proud, arrogant bastard he fought for so many years being so frightened. After a while Lotor recovered and looked at him.

"Y..You wish to go back to sleep," he stated.

"Unless you want me to actually guard you..."

"I think whatever it is can't stand the light. Sounds childish, no?"

"Yeah, it does. But it's actually refreshing to see you as a frightened kid."

"Hope you enjoyed the show," said the drule sarcastically. "I suppose I should thank you."

"Boy, you're really ill if you are being polite to me! Well, I'll return to my own, sweet dreams."

Lotor sighed. He looked up as Lance went back to his room. The pilot left the light on, for which he was grateful. The ex-prince was dead tired, but dragged himself out of bed, bringing a blanket for he was chilled to the bone, and sat at his drawing table, where he began to draw one of the monsters. It would be easier to show them then to talk of it. On his drawing, he made an ancient drule symbol of warding. He didn't think he was exaggeratedly superstitious, but tracing the sigil made him feel a little better.

Behind him stood a ghost, the spirit of king Alfor, who looked in growing horror at his most terrible fear appearing line by line under Lotor's hand. He thanked whatever sacred spirit might be listening that Lotor drew this warding sigil, for even pictures of those monsters held power. Even better, the ex-prince overlapped the symbol on his drawing.

Lotor shivered just looking at the image. When he was finished, he turned it face down and sat at his window. He hugged himself tightly, waiting for the morning. When it finally came, his cold had gotten worse, and by the time the pink ribbon of light penetrated his room, he had fallen asleep curled up in his chair.


	15. Plans, Theories and Sketches

Loooong chapter. One of my favorites, especially the banter at the end. Voltron and its universe aren't mine. If they were, the Voltron team's combat suits would have a _very_ different design.

I love Hunk in this one. I always thought he was cool. He's not the cookie-cutter type of hero, he's good-natured, and coolest of all, he actually _repairs_ Voltron sometimes. With the bizarre mix of unknowned technology and magic Voltron is, I figure one has to be a genius to do that.

115- Plans, Theories and Sketches

When the V team came to check on him, hours later, the prisoner was sleeping fitfully. He gave a startled yelp when Allura gently touched his shoulder, and for a second they could all see how frightened he was. Then he was lost in a fit of coughing.

"Serves you right for fighting shadows in the rain," Keith told him. "Kovak is worried about you. He says he'll come visit."

"Great. Now my string of bad luck is complete."

Still, Lotor was grateful his Master would come. Kovak would know what to do. Khiara Masters knew all the legends and some ancient magic. Maybe he could teach him how to protect himself from those... unnameable things.

"Lance told us you had visitors last night."

"I'm not sure who or what," said the pilot, "but something was definitely here and it was _not_ friendly."

"He also said you needed to tell us about it," added Keith.

Lotor gathered himself. The similarity of the two temples was just too great to pass it under silence.

"I dreamed of a replica of the temple you have here at the castle, only it was in castle Doom," he began, trying to keep his voice steady. "But instead of Lions, there were those... I have no name for them. I drew one."

He gestured toward the table and Allura took the drawing. She immediately dropped it with a cry, as if it had burned her.

"Are you all right?" They all asked, each in a different manner.

"Yes, but this... it feels so... wrong."

"Well, said Keith, I know I'm not an ESP."

The commander gingerly took the drawing.

"Well?" Allura asked.

"It feels dreadful. But I can hold it."

He was pale and his hand was trembling a little. They all looked at the frightful beast and Keith put the drawing back on the table. Lotor took a deep breath and continued.

"Before this... exile, when I was still at castle Doom I asked Hagar if there was a way... to restore me to my former self. She said yes and she brought me to that temple. It really does exist. And it felt somewhat the same. They... seem to have spirits linked to them, just like the lions. They too are associated with the five colors. All of them feel evil. But the dark one... They want something from me. They... were in my mind. Light seems to repel them. When the light appeared, they fled."

Lotor hugged himself tighter.

"They were like... dark tendrils slithering in my mind, trying to grab it. Hagar called them Masters, and she said they could grant me whatever I wished. But they felt so repulsive that I refused. I think it angered them. I admit I ran away. Even then, I could still feel them grabbing my mind. I don't know what else to call it. Last night they came again. I could hear them whispering, I saw colored strings of lights and... and they got inside my head somehow..."

His expression was getting hazy as he relived his nightmare.

"Hey," said Lance, "snap out of it! Or do I get to shake you again? He added in mock eagerness."

"Now I really know the meaning of the expression being frightened out of your wits," said Lotor, looking out the window again.

"After a night like this," the princess conceded, "one would be... This was some sort of attack. Whatever they are, they seem to be very powerful. I'll look in our archives and see what I can find."

"We'll help you out," offered the commander.

Allura said thanks, but she was looking the ex-prince worriedly. He didn't notice, for he had curled up and turned to the window again. He coughed softly. Allura reflected that she had never seen him frightened before. He had lived with a despot and a witch and had seen countless monsters. He had done unspeakable things, and yet, the malevolence of these creatures obviously terrified him, and it visibly embarrassed him that they should see him scared. He had nevertheless stepped on his pride to let them know about those... things. On an impulse she discreetly asked for someone to stay with him.

"I don't mind," said Hunk.

All the others filed out to help Allura in her research. Lotor heard them leave and started to shiver again. He turned and was surprised to see the yellow lion pilot seated at his table, rummaging through his drawings. He was so relieved not to be alone, to be in full daylight, that he could have cried if his pride didn't prevent it. His fatigue suddenly weighted him and he returned to bed. The good natured Hunk told the drule to relax and to sleep soundly, that no black tendril thingy was going to come while he was in the vicinity. Lotor smiled a little, let his head fall on the pillow and slept.

Hunk also turned the drawing of the monster face down. He didn't believe he had any sensitivity for those things, but that drawing did feel sinister, even to him. If he reacted to it that way, how would the actual beings feel?

Hunk was usually hot. He could go outside in a t-shirt while any other would have put on a coat. The only exception to this was when he anticipated dire things to happen, and he felt the familiar chill crawl up and down his spine. Whatever they were, it wasn't good. He even opened the curtains all the way. It felt good to see the sunlight flood the small room. Then he ordered breakfast. Nothing dispelled dark thoughts like the smell of bacon and eggs. He ordered two, thinking it wouldn't be polite to let their "guest" eat alone.

While he waited he proceeded to go through all of Lotor's designs and was amazed by this collection of truly ingenious ideas. He looked at the sleeping ex-prince, reflecting that they didn't really know him at all. Some of those tiny machines, made in swarms, could incapacitate even Voltron. He had claimed these were old ideas, why then hadn't he used them?

Hunk saw that Lotor really could have destroyed them. That he had deliberately played a double-edged game, something Allura always suspected.

Just then the breakfast arrived, carried by an annoyed servant. Having breakfast at noon, really... But Hunk never noticed as he had eyes only for the treasures on the platter. He thanked the servant profusely for having gone through that trouble, complimented her and the artists involved in the making of this, and actually made her blush.

She retired with a charmed smile. When Hunk looked at Lotor, golden eyes were staring back at him. The ex-prince was braced on his arm and had an amused expression.

"Are you always this poetic when it comes to food?"

"Well," shrugged the explorer, "you were the one who mentioned there was precious little pleasure in life..."

"I was talking about sleep then, but the creatures of this quadrant seem determined not to let me."

"Well, this creature won't let you skip eating, you look skeletal. Here, do drules eat eggs?"

"We love eggs. Raw, preferably, but I'm just half drule. I like them well cooked. And _without_ the shell."

He got up and went to his cushioned chair, and they ate breakfast while discussing the specifics of those tiny robots. The ex-prince had that idea while viewing what a swarm of insects had devastated on one of their planets. In sufficient numbers, birds, locusts, even ants or mosquitoes always stopped anything and everything. No animal or machine could function once the swarm was on them.

"Why didn't you use such a thing against us?" Asked Hunk.

"Father always dismissed small machines. Not spectacular enough. I was keeping these ideas for my own reign. Now it doesn't look as if I'll come to power anytime soon. Not that I give a damn anymore," he said between two bites.

"I actually think it'd be a bad idea to leave those drawings in the open like this. They could fall in the wrong hands..."

"That's why I never drew them before. Could you just imagine what would have happened if father realized the potential of those things? He still thinks bigger is better, the terror inspired being one of his favorite weapons. Hagar is more subtle."

"What was it like?"

"What?"

"Living with them."

The ex-prince was a little taken aback, but decided the human was just curious. He smiled a little, remembering his own elegant pride as he prowled the castle in the old days. He was vain, but why not? He was handsome then, and his harem actually liked him. They had tried everything imaginable and a few things that weren't. He was so persuaded he was irresistible that the falling of Allura in his arms was just a matter of time. Ah, but he had been naive, thinking the empire was indestructible, and himself as well. As for his relationship with his father and the high court... It had been...

"...Like walking on a foot wide walkway with black emptiness on either side," he said aloud. "I couldn't jump off, but there were advantages. I was heir, any toy I wanted I could have, robeasts, ships, and concubines. If you dismiss the beatings and the insipid discourse of dear father, and the fine, razor sharp line I walked on, it was... filled with an excess of everything. I was free and rich, I could pursue all of my goals. I had beauty and power, and I was confident everything would fall into my hands in due time. Including the princess, of course. I was so irresistible they all came to my arms, except one. It was all so glittery and frightening at the same time. It appeared unbeatable. Hagar's creatures terrorized everyone, but they also made the castle impossible to conquer, or so we thought..."

His expression became closed and guarded.

"After the crash, well, I'd rather not get into that."

"Try the sausages," said Hunk, "they dispel dark thoughts."

Lotor had to smile at that. They fell in a companionable silence as he ate and Hunk continued to rummage through the drawings. The ex-prince had little pride left, but those creations were part of it.

Hunk eventually reached the drawing he had made of Allura, and for the first time he realized that Lotor really did love her. Only loving hands could have caressed the paper like that, and drawn something that was this beautifully alive. He turned to the ex-prince and saw him blush and lower his eyes. He suddenly felt very sorry for him. He knew what it was like not to fit the standard of male beauty. He had always been somewhat bulky, and it made some people dismiss him as if he were a non-entity. But at least he was used to it by now. And he had cool friends and was appreciated by them. Everyone here either feared Lotor or pitied him, save for Rose. That made a rather short list.

There was a knock on the door and Master Kovak entered. Hunk said hello and mentally added him to that list. He then executed a perfect Khiaran salute that left Lotor aghast, and left them alone.

"Maybe we should try to enroll this one as well, my prince."

"I'm not a prince anymore, Master."

"That is a matter of point of view, but we won't get into that. The Commander told me you had a disturbing dream... please tell me of it."

***** ***** *****

Hunk joined the others, smiling as he savored the expression on Lotor's face. Rose had shown him how to salute, and he remembered it with great accuracy. His mind wasn't fast processing like quicksilver, that particular trait was Pidge's, but it retained everything. He loved it when he could surprise people with a little piece of his huge store of information. He used that with parsimony, for he had discovered the advantages of being underestimated. Pidge was on to him of course. That's why the skinny pilot always teased him. And why they made such a great team.

They were well balanced, he decided. He could see why they'd been chosen. He was a down to earth, realistic and solid man. Pidge was complex, and hid his thoughts very well. He reached for the light from the deepness of them, just like a forest. Wood was an element in some cultures. Lance had to be Fire. He was always moving, animated with this fire that was sometimes light and warmth giving, sometimes destructive, but he never quite lost control. Almost. The princess had a way of getting what she wanted by bypassing obstacles or passing right over them when necessary. Just like water. And Keith seemed not to have any flaw he could think of, except maybe a tendency to state the obvious, but he was the closest human to an angel he'd ever met. Air was the element keeping all those others alive. Who could better harness those spirits?

The earth chosen wondered what their opposites were like. If they were associated to the five colors, then they probably represented the same elements too. He suddenly remembered that Green Lion helped Lotor escape once. And when he was in a bad mood or a good one for that matter, the woods always seemed to attract the drule. If the green was drawn to him or vive versa, maybe that dark green spirit wanted him as its representative. Not a bad theory.

He decided to think on it while he walked, but wait, was he bypassing the kitchen? Now that would be a premiere. He retraced his steps and went for his traditional raid of the place. It was a good part of the workers day. They would affect indignation, but always prepared something in plain view and easy to steal. Once, Hunk had decided to stop raiding the kitchen, and a few days later he had received a nice note, signed by all the personnel, that they missed him and would make everything unfit for eating if he didn't come back. Of course he had obliged.

Charged with wonders from the culinary artists, he finally came to the temple, where his four friends were sorting through dusty books and scrolls. Lance was allergic to dust mites, his eyes were red and he definitely seemed in a foul mood. He sneezed violently.

"I've come to take your place, Lance. Here, have a pastry and go breathe some fresh air..."

Lance looked at the princess with longing. She nodded with a kind smile and he fled.

"What about our guest?" Inquired Allura.

"He's with Kovak. He's ok. I made him eat..."

"Food's your answer to everything," teased Pidge.

"Of course it is, it's very efficient. You should try it every now and then," he retorted impishly.

"You're spending too much time with Lance, Hunk."

But Pidge was smiling of course. He reported that so far they had found absolutely nothing, and showed him the pile of dusty scrolls that Lance had been going through. Hunk was a little chagrined that they wolfed down the pastries, but took it in stride and explained his theory while he unrolled the things.

"You see, it's like that Chinese thing, the Yin and the Yang. Everything has an opposite. Light and dark, male and female, and nothing is complete without it. It's a question of balance. My guess is that even the good spirits of Aris have their opposites too. There just may be five spirits waiting for the right persons to find them."

*We're afraid your companion is right*

A choir of voices spoke from out of nowhere. It was like they spoke in their minds.

*When Alfor created the lions, we warned him of such an eventuality. If we were to give him this knowledge, our counterparts would be in turn allowed to give the same knowledge to their own chosen. The situation was dire and he accepted that risk, hoping that our five opposites would never find beings to bond this closely with them, as Alfor and you have bonded with us. The spirits are always seeking. They seduced Hagar with power, and now they try to use her to bring them someone to bind. They have been in Lotor's presence and felt that he is cleverer in mechanics then he let on. They want to use that talent, just like we used King Alfor's, to build themselves shapes to inhabit. Even though he refused them entry, he cannot resist such powerful spirits forever; we are amazed he made it this far. He has to be protected somehow, for were he to become spirit-bound, he would be a threat indeed... That has to be avoided at all costs. The greatest danger comes with the night, for they thrive in obscurity.*

"How can we protect him?" Asked Allura.

*One of you has to stay with him at all times. Our counterparts will not dare come near to anyone of us, and you are our chosen. We are always with you.*

"I... I don't know if I can..." began the princess

"Or even if you should!" Threw in the Commander. "I think the four of us can manage to work something out. I don't really think even Lotor would appreciate it if your rather formidable chaperon escorted you..."

"Keith! Really! Nanny's not that bad!"

The boys looked at her a second before they started to laugh. She sighed in good-humored annoyance.

"I'm sure Lance would have found something infamous to retort to that!" She said.

"Let's find him and work something out," Keith told Hunk and Pidge. "Err, princess... I don't think we should tell our cerillian guest about all this, it's a little hard to appear sane when you begin to speak of spirits."

"I agree," said Allura.

The three looked relieved and Allura smiled. She returned to Coran and Prince Nikolaï, and they went to find Lance. Upon hearing this he smiled wickedly.

"At ALL times? What about the bathroom?" He snickered.

"I don't think we need to go that far, really," Keith answered, amused.

"Think of all the wonderful gossip we could have gathered!"

"You can and will make it up if it suits you," teased Pidge.

"You're no fun. Come on! Let's make him believe we'll have to spy on him even there!"

"I don't know," said Keith in mock seriousness, "with the drules and their curious habits, maybe he'd be delighted..."

Lance played in and looked horrified.

"All right, bad idea."

The giggling quatuor arrived in Lotor's room. Kovak was still there. He held a jar containing a dark liquid in which he dipped a brush. He was painting a small symbol on Lotor's forehead. They could see that his real hand was also covered in faint drule designs.

"Greetings, master Keith," he said amiably. "I hope it won't bother you to see a bit more of our ancient culture?"

Keith frowned.

"As long as it doesn't hurt anybody."

"These are warding symbols," Kovak explained, unfazed. "It should help somewhat, but the forces I sense gathering around our prince are very powerful. It's a pity we do not have a sorcerer among the refugees."

"If I remember correctly," said Pidge, "they didn't accept them on any world."

"That is correct. They were the first to ask refugee status. When Zarcon associated himself with the witches, he dismissed our own mages, as they were unwilling to accept his authority. It was one of the worse massacres of our history. They fled for their lives, and we don't know if any of them found safe haven."

"I'm sorry," said Pidge.

"Zarcon hurt many species, and his own as well, perhaps more then any other. But enough of him," said the Khiara master, smiling again. "This is our symbol for the Wood, he explained, showing them the intricate design on Lotor's forehead."

Given that Doom had been a sterile world, that one must not have been used for decades, they thought.

Lotor was embarrassed at this scrutiny. He looked wan and tired. Kovak took his hand and showed them the Light, the Earth, the Water and the Gathering Spirit, Wind. The ink looked pale and fading. Kovak explained it would disappear, but the protection would remain.

"Of course, we realize that you five are associated with those spirits. Our Writings say each has a destructive potential. We theorized that they could take on physical forms, and I think this is what they are after. We have legends that speak of this; they may be after our prince..."

"Please, Master," said Lotor tiredly. "I'm not a prince anymore."

Kovak just smiled gently, and Lotor looked down. There was just no way to convince his master to stop addressing him as Prince. Maybe Kovak thought it made him feel better. It didn't of course. He watched as the V team explained what they had learned. They decided to trust the Khiaran master and they compared knowledge. Kovak was relieved someone would be watching his prince. He told them to be careful and "don't miss your next lesson, and by the way, master Hunk, should you wish to join..."

"Don't let him talk you into it Hunk," said Keith, smiling. "That guy is Rose's teacher in manipulation!"

"Woah! Now that's what I call mastery," said Hunk in an awed voice.

The drule master took their humorous attitude as a good sign and left. Keith felt almost compelled to tease Lotor by following Lance's idea, but one look at his target made him perish that thought. Hunk also saw that defeated look he had learned to recognize. It was time to dispel those gloomy topics.

"Well, shall we begin on that centipede? I sure could use a hand..."

"Which is a good thing since I only got one," said the prince bitterly. "I'd be delighted to be out of here."

The others gave Hunk grateful looks as he brought Lotor to his lab. It turned out they all could help: Pidge programmed, and Lance sorted out the castle's plan to have the little creature take the shortest route to anywhere via corridors and what seemed to be ancient air conduits. As for Keith, he kept the princess and Nikolaï away from the lab by having their royal guest take a tour of Yellow Lion's desert lair.

***** ***** *****

Allura was enchanted, for she had harbored thoughts that Keith had been avoiding her lately. They were in the pyramid, admiring Yellow Lion. Prince Nikolai seemed ill at ease at first. Keith thought this was strange, for being in a lion's lair always gave him a feeling of peace.

The moment passed, and Nikolaï sweetly smiled as he asked where the others were, as they never seemed to be apart. Was it his imagination, or did the prince just imply something passably scandalous there? Keith decided he _really_ didn't like Nikolaï. The insinuating weasel! He imitated the charming tones of the prince, and explained that Pidge had decided to enlist Hunk and Lance to do some cybernetics, and that he was giving them instructions in the lab.

"I should guess it would take some time," said Nikolaï charmingly. "What about the drule?"

"We don't follow him everywhere around. He loves the forest, he's probably gallivanting through it somewhere..."

"Ah. With that droll little flower girl? Aren't you afraid he might do something, er, regretful? Drules, you know, have notoriously bad ethics."

"We have no indication he's a pederast, if that's what you're implying," Keith said, forcing his voice to keep the same sweet tone as the prince's. "Besides I doubt she's with him now, unless she skipped school..."

"Still, doesn't it frighten you to have to let an enemy relatively free like that? He could do all manner of mischief..."

"Maybe a little," said Keith. "We have the spies to keep an eye on him."

"Ah, your famous spies! How is the count, by the way? Still boasting the best service in this part of the universe? It must be so very reassuring to have such an important place filled by a proper gentleman, isn't it?"

For the first time since he'd arrived on the planet, Allura looked at him askance, but it was so fleeting he missed it. Keith was boiling inside, and suddenly understood why Lotor had lashed out in fury like that. That insufferable, haughty *******! To imply that only nobles should hold important functions, whereas he knew perfectly well the commander had no such pedigree. Still, he congratulated himself on his acting powers as he answered in a syrupy voice, "of course, your Majesty..." and went on with the tour. What he had to go through! That centipede had better be an exceptional machine.

***** ***** *****

Keith later reached the lab in a massacre mood, and was startled out of his wits when something was thrown on his shirt and began crawling. The mechanical insect was happily going toward the commander's head, and Keith could see his own face from below in a giant screen above the smiling Pidge.

"See, no distortion..."

"Please," he said in a long-suffering voice, "do take it off me."

"Bad afternoon?" Asked Lance knowingly, having the little machine crawl on his hand.

"It looks better on you," said Keith with a weary smile.

He looked around. The rest of his team had sure been busy. Three little centipedes were crawling, their undulating path shown in different screens. The sharp black and white images showed every detail, even of places blackened by shadows. Hunk was leaning on plans, Pidge was scrolling through his scripts, Lance was playing with the one spybot he had, making faces at it and looking at his outrageous image on the screen. Lotor was seated with a drawing pad, busily scratching at it with a piece of graphite. Once the plan was drawn, the designer didn't have much to do, so apparently he had been sketching for a while. Many pages were turned. He looked a little feverish and they had given him a blanket.

"Remember your wish to slash the Prince in ribbons?" Keith asked Lotor.

"What of it?"

"Keep a slice for me."

Lotor blinked and Hunk asked what happened. The commander recounted his charming afternoon with the gentry. Lance smirked and congratulated him on his acting.

"That's from spending too much time with you, Lance."

"Yeah, yeah, always put it on Lance's shoulders," mocked the red lion pilot. "One would believe I'm corrupting the whole team!"

"You are," said Pidge, supremely deadpan.

They all laughed and Lotor looked at them with new wonder. This kind of strong friendship was completely alien territory to him. He could only observe and wonder. They teased each other mercilessly, but they obviously had great respect too. How could that be? He looked at them with chagrin and envy. His body chose that ill timing to protest and he sneezed. They all turned to him.

"So, campanule," asked Lance, "what did you draw all this time?"

Lotor unconsciously clutched his drawing pad closer. Of course that prompted the red lion pilot to snatch it. The ex-prince protested in vain as they leafed through. What _was_ a campanule?

"Hey, it's us!" Lance told the others. "Man, this is actually quite good!"

They gathered around to admire the drawings. Lotor looked crestfallen. Among several, there was one of Pidge with his eyes locked on a screen, one close up of a very concentrated Hunk adjusting a fine detail on the artificial insect, and Lance grinning wickedly as he looked at a plan.

"Hey," said Lance, "that was when I found that little air conduit peeking right in Allura's room!"

"Lance!" The pilots chorused.

"Ok ok. There isn't really. It connects to Nikolaï's suite. You wouldn't believe all the mini passageways I found, it's a real labyrinth. They're not true air conduits. It seems whoever built the castle also thought of keeping an eye on the guests..."

"That is excellent," said the commander.

"Those drawings are wicked good, Lotor," said Pidge.

"Would you mind if we kept some?" asked Hunk. "As it is, we have no pictures of us working. We have lots of net stuff, snapshots of us with the lions and such, but never pics of just who we are."

"Yeah, that's true," said Lance, looking serious for once.

"That arrogant smirk sure represents you quite well, Lance," said Pidge.

"And that vacant expression when you stare at a screen..." retorted Lance, "it's perfect."

Pidge scowled, but Hunk said,

"Well, it's true, you do get into lalaland when you're scripting. Makes you look like a little kid. You even stick out your tongue sometimes."

"I do?" He asked in surprise.

They could also see that the drule was lightning fast on rapid sketching, for the last portrayed to perfection Keith's flustered expression when he came in moments ago. There was even some details of his formal uniform, something he hadn't worn in ages, but that Allura had asked him to wear for their royal guest. The only prince that had been visiting Aris before with any regularity was Lotor himself. Keith said so.

"Oh," said Lotor coyly, "is that so? And you wouldn't put formal wear for me?"

"Well, on your numerous visits you never quite gave me the time to change..."

They all laughed again in good humor, and this time the ex-prince even smiled a little.

***** ***** *****

I was determined not to beg for reviews, but with several readers (saw that in my traffic statistics), I would _really_ like a few. My 2 reviews come from the same person. Thanks to my lone reviewer, by the way. With the number of hits, I know I'm not writing in a desert, but it sure feels so! Perhaps a few reviews would also encourage other persons to try out my fic. Pleeease? Ok, begging done.


	16. Flight

Action... :-)

1**16- Flight**

He really looked sweet. Like marshmallow dipped in honey. Nikolaï's shoulder length hair was a spectacular pale blond; he had sensuous lips, a perfect face and an elegant demeanor. His eyes were like two emeralds. His costumes were always in white and gold, somewhat military in cut, and fit his slim body to perfection. You could readily imagine him on a white horse, ceremonial sword in hand. You could almost see the little cherubs flying around holding ribbons and throwing petals on his path.

Rose didn't like him at all. First, he never got her name right. And second, and most important, he sucked up to her father, the Count. Anyone who sucked up to nobles and ignored others was a loser in her book. "If he keeps this up, the carpet will be all wet with drool..." she thought, scowling at him. "We'll walk and it'll make a disgusting swish sound."

Rose was bored out of her wits. Because she was the Count's daughter, she had to appear at the dinner table with all the Barons, Princesses and stuffed up gentry. She was seated right next to her dad, who was beyond flattered by all this attention, and of course took it as his due. She had to wear this silly frilly pink dress that made her look like a cake. But there was one good thing: it also transformed her into an eight-year-old kid. She noticed that in those soirées the men were always getting lewd after they'd had enough to drink, and thought the women were too naive to catch their barely concealed allusions. It disgusted Coran, who always had something rather pressing to attend to, and Allura as well; she would always get a note and excuse herself on urgent matters.

But poor Rose had no such stratagems. "Wait, she asked herself suddenly, why not? What could I invent to be excused early?" There wasn't much in the arsenal of a girl in front of a table filled with food, except the classic solution. She proceeded to stuff herself with greasy thingies, they always made her turn quite green.

It worked a little too well. She didn't even have to say she felt sick. The Baroness seated on her left was a huge lady, very nice and all; she was one of the few Rose actually liked. The Lady in question looked at her, became all alarmed and took her rapidly to the bathroom. She tactfully waited for her outside. When Rose emerged, she was as white as a sheet and begged the Baroness to tell the Count she had gone to bed. The nice Lady said 'Of course, my poor sweetie', and that was that. Rose could have jumped up and down in joy if those fried cheese sticks hadn't almost killed her.

"I'm free," she said gleefully. "I'm free!"

And she ran out of the castle. The night air felt so cool and nice! It made her feel much better. She went in pursuit of the Wolf, a game she liked to try every now and then. She would try to sneak on him. The Stray Wolf was Lance, of course. He wasn't always out at night, but when both were in the forest, he was the one who caught her first.

When the Wolf was out in the silvery forest, he was always in a very silent, brooding mood. She respected that. They would just walk together. But no matter how melancholic he was, he would certainly laugh his head off to see her in that stupid dress.

Oh well. Maybe he wasn't even in the forest. She heard nothing out of the ordinary. She crossed Marble's path and signed hi. Pattern four. His hands shot out of his cloak as he signed alarmingly back, code red, hide! Darn, he has seen her; she had to be careful! Stupid pink dress! Still Marble was very sharp, unlike his namesake. She had nicknamed him Marble for the same reason big people were nicknamed Slim. Code red. That meant something threatening was in the woods. She immediately hid in a rather big hydrangea. Its pale flowers would make her pink dress part of the scenery.

Then she spotted what had prompted this code. There was someone crouching in a bush. She realized she was vulnerable in her pale dress and quite fortunate he hadn't seen her. Now the game was getting a little too interesting! It couldn't be Snow, because she was one of the 7 persons on the planet that knew Snow was accompanied constantly now, and that he sniffed or sneezed every minute or so.

Besides this one wasn't wearing a spy cloak but a dark commando outfit. He had pale hands and short nails : human. Marble took out his weapon. She saw the commando react at this movement, he saw him! He drew his own weapon: a drule laser gun. And Marble couldn't know from his position! Then it clicked in a neat puzzle in Rose's brain and she took in some air to warn Marble, but a shot covered her little beginning of a scream.

She saw Marble topple to the ground and forced herself to stay silent by clamping both her hands on her mouth.

Suddenly she heard shouts in the night air. She recognized Fidget and pink Mammoth. Shots followed. It made her crouch down instantly, but it was a little farther away. She desperately hoped Marble wasn't dead. Her heart was beating so fast; she had to find someone to report this to!

She didn't want to go in the same direction the commando was now running in. She had her theory, so she went out of the paths, toward master Kovak's village. She had to warn him.

She did so with all the stealth she was capable of. She smeared her dress with mud so it wouldn't shine in the moonlight and sped through her beloved forest in utter silence. She had practiced this for so many years, and now it turned deadly serious. She thanked the good Spirits that she'd gone undercover as she saw the forest was filled with those men dressed in dark commando clothes.

She reached the fence surrounding the drule village and escalated it. She went straight to Kovak's unit. He opened his door, rather surprised to find a dirty little mud cake on his doormat. But the master wasn't one to gape for long. He ushered her in and gave her water.

"Something terrible is happening," she gasped.

She recounted briefly what she had seen.

"I think they are coming here! I think they are some gang wanting to elevate themselves by making you into villains and they as heroes. You're being framed! We have to warn someone! They shot Marble!"

"I'm sorry, master Rose, but the communication system went down half an hour ago."

"S***! That was certainly on purpose! I have to run to the castle and tell Keith or Lance!"

Just then they could hear people screaming loudly for them drules to stay in their barracks or they'd be shot on sight. There was a lot of agitation as the drules unfortunate enough to have been out were forced into the buildings. The men bristled with weapons and wore the same commando outfit Rose had seen. She trembled in fright. It looked as if they'd been invaded. Kovak was listening intently, and Rose let him, knowing that his drule ears would catch their every word, even though the door was closed.

"They seem to think some drules attacked one of the castle spies."

"It's certainly a frame, Sensei! The first one of them I saw is the one who shot Marble!"

"Well, we drules are very easy to frame. Everyone always puts all crimes on our backs..."

"Keith would believe me I'm sure of it! I'm human, if I sneak out..."

"And do you think you can casually walk all the way to the castle in a mud-smeared dress?"

"S***!"

"Such language. Here, use a Khiara outfit. At least it's black and dry."

He rummaged through his collection and found one that wasn't too big. Meanwhile Rose proceeded to make herself presentable. During all this time the sounds unnerved her, there was a lot of banging on the doors and people being questioned loudly.

Kovak showed her a tiny dog door in the back of his unit. She barely fit through and told herself if her hips had been a millimeter wider she'd have stayed stuck. It was very dark. She felt something wet on her face and started a little, but from sounds she knew she was in the middle of a pack of dogs. Two or three licked her face. Some were barking furiously at a commando standing at the corner of the barrack. Others wagged their tails, good-naturedly thinking this was all a new game.

She decided to use the dogs as a cover to reach the fence. She found a rock, whispered catch in drule, and threw it. Six or seven responded and pursued the rock, and she went with them, staying low. When the commando turned to "shut those mutts off", he vaguely saw a little pack of them running off in the dark, but the most part were staring straight at him, barking furiously.

"Silence!" the man shouted, and he killed a few.

"There," he then said, "that shut them up!"

Rose was now on the other side of the fence. She was shocked at how this man carelessly terminated wonderful beings, but also grateful that this idiot provided a diversion. She hoped the other dogs wouldn't get killed and silently sent a prayer for them.

She ran again, reaching a safe distance in the city. A Khiara outfit was better then a mud streaked dress, and she could now just calmly walk toward the castle. No one questioned the charming little flower, for Rose was renowned to wander everywhere and at odd hours. All the village had often seen her in a khiara outfit.

She met running commandos and asked naively what was happening. She wasn't overly surprised to find out they belonged to Nikolaï, and that they had discovered a plot of the drules to put Lotor in charge. They had wounded a spy, he said, but they were caught before they could do any real harm. Rose wondered what they'd call real harm and was afraid for Marble but relieved he was alive. The commandos then said they had arrested the ex-prince and that the area was secure. Rose smiled sweetly.

"Congratulations!" She said innocently.

"Just doing our job, miss."

Rose could have screamed, but waved bye and went on her way. As soon as she was out of their sight she ran.

As for Kovak, he wasn't born yesterday, so he smeared his boots with the mud from the dress, stuffed it and the towels she had used in his stove, and stepped on all the tracks Rose had made, making it an unreadable mess. Humans readily believed drules had dirty habits. He could only hope they were clumsy enough to step themselves on the tracks she had made outside, and it was probable, since there was a lot of them crawling all over the place.

Some of them bust in and asked loudly if he was Kovak. He said he was and almost smiled when they barked at him he was suspected of plotting against the crown. He didn't resist, for he knew these men were deceivers. He told himself that the safest place for him now was probably the prison.


	17. Interlude

1A reader mentioned finding my story hard to follow because the V3D universe isn't known much. Most persons, I realise, didn't see it and if they did, abandoned it pretty quickly.

Hey I totally understand... I watched it myself because I used to work with 3D software. I was interested in the technical aspect. I was appalled, of course. But I dutifully watched it, thinking, ah, this is motion capture, mmm, they used the same 3D character and pulled here and there to make others instead of building each one from scratch, the cloth simulation is this or that. The poor 3D artists must have run on a pretty low budget.

The hair... eeeerk! Hair is one of the things I modelled while working 3D, and its very hard to achieve a natural looking head of hair. The more objets, the harder to calculate, the longer the computer will take to make even one frame, or image. Square Soft and Pixar have the budget and time to pull it off, but its still not realistic to expect nice hair for a weekly show. Too pricey, gents.

Ok enough for the technical. For those who didn't have incentive to follow it, I'll explain a few things, and if you want some point clarified, just ask.

Facts of the storyline of Voltron 3D :

In this show, following the destruction of castle Doom, Lotor was grievously wounded but managed to activate a function that freed a 'space fortress' version of the castle, pretty much like it was done for the castle on Arus. So the big bad Doom fortress kind of flew off on its own. (3D being expensive, I strongly suspect they modelled one castle, and pulled a few points on a copy to build both the space Doom fortress and the Arusian castle. This economic use of 3D is what inspired – in my story - the connection between the 2 places, and eventually the opponents spirits.)

Lotor is imprisoned at high security facility called Bastille 12. As he lost several parts of his body they were replaced with cybernetics. He had become a cyborg.

Meanwhile, Zarkon has supposedly 'reformed' (Ah! As if! Nobody would have believed that! This scenario, as improbable as it is, it nevertheless the story, I'm just re-telling.) and is the right arm of the current galaxy leader, a sentient robot named Amalgamus.

Of course Zarcon manipulates Amalgamus, this is discovered by the Voltron force. He flees in his space floating Doom castle, Lotor escapes and eventually they work together to try and rebuild their empire. Haggar is there, don't know where she's been, but then, everything is sketchy is this show.

I kept only those facts that I felt I could work with.

The general setting of the space Doom fortress, its emptiness, the presence of a couple of pirate characters that sometimes appear to help the villains.

Igor, mentioned once in my story so far (the one Lotor called a celebrated pile of junk), is a robot commanded by Zarcon, built to replace Lotor. Of course the robot bungles in an attack and Lotor is 'kept' in the castle following this.

The Revenge is a spaceship, supposedly designed by Lotor, that he has after he busts out of prison. When was it built? Mystery. Anyway its there in the show, and isn't powered by lazon. Instead it uses a weird combo of elements. Don't ask. I didn't try to explain that one, I just put it in the fic.

All of Zarcon's ships are automated, except the Revenge.

That's about it, hope I didn't forget anything.

I liked this idea of a cyborg Lotor, I felt this would have really crushed him, losing his aesthetic presence. Where does he go from there?

Being in a depression when I began the story, I spent most of my time on my sofa. I was enraged at some injustices I felt I was the butt end of. So I began this fic literally as a semi-personal rant, that's why it has Lotor spending a lot of time in his own, broken sofa, questioning everything in his life. The text took a life of its own, and voilà.

If you want other settings explained, just ask.


	18. Visitors

Visitors

Lotor growled from the inside of a cell.

"Commander, if it had been my plan, I wouldn't have been this clumsy. Your spy wouldn't have spotted any of my own, I assure you. And if he had he'd be dead or captured. Besides, the only drule I saw ever since I'm here is Kovak, and he once stopped a sequence mid-strike just to observe a bird."

"He does calls you prince..."

"So do you! So do half the people here!"

Lotor was answering Keith's questions from behind bars. The commander didn't like the way Nikolaï's soldiers had busted in and arrested the ex-prince, saying they had discovered a plot to overthrow Princess Allura. Even if that were the case, they had no business taking this affair in their hands and arrogantly patrol the castle as if it was theirs. And they had yet to present any tangible proof, but Nikolaï insisted that for military reasons, he couldn't betray his sources.

Keith knew that it would have been technically very difficult for Lotor to mount such a coup, but not impossible. He had been, after all, relatively free, as Nikolaï had stated. Still, every instinct in the commander rebelled at this idea. This whole story made Lotor into a wicked genius and a distracted imbecile at the same time. It would have taken quite an industrious acting to trick all the Voltron Force like that, to fake the khiara practice in the rain, the cold, the nightmares, and all that just to mount a silly attack that had turned into such a fiasco. And the spirits of the lions, well, that couldn't be faked.

He looked at the ex-prince and saw simmering fury, but no disappointment. He saw his eyes bright with fever. Just then more commandos came in bringing a new prisoner. They passed right by him as if he were a non-entity and pushed Kovak in a cell, none too gently. Then they departed.

"Hem, hello," said the Khiara master with a rather embarrassed smile.

"Master!" Lotor exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"It would seem I'm part of a plot to put you on the throne."

Lotor laughed bitterly. He looked at Keith in desperation. He always hated prisons, but ever since his long stay at the Bastille, it had become obsessive.

"You believe that, don't you commander?"

Keith looked around, frowning. He thought he was becoming paranoid; maybe the place was bugged. He acted furious, reached through the bars and grabbed Lotor's shirt. He pulled him to the bars barking loudly "You bet I believe it!" As Lotor was very close he added in a rapid whisper "Not. Play it cool for now". And he pushed the ex-prince away.

It was quite believable and Keith thought that maybe he should go for an acting career if ever Voltron was put in mothballs. He didn't push his luck. He just told Kovak he was very disappointed and left.

***** ***** *****

He had been wise to be this careful, for elsewhere in the castle, Nikolaï had been observing this little exchange through some liquid held in a flat vase. It glowed, and the mirror-like substance reflected both the scene and some muffled sounds. Nikolaï smiled sweetly. This was going quite well! He saw Lotor sit down rather abruptly on the floor, and lean wearily on the bars that separated him from his Khiara master, looking like a broken man. Nikolaï had no interest in watching that part and besides, he had other things to attend.

He looked at himself in a mirror to see if his expression was as sweet and desolate as he wished, and satisfied with his reflection, he went to join the Princess and her right arm Coran.

This whole thing had neatly placed itself in the drule's lap. The only detail that bothered Nikolaï was that the spy wasn't dead. Even worse, he had spotted the man who shot him. His soldier said he barely escaped, for two other of the spies showed up in seconds. The Arisian spyleader, the Count, hadn't told him his spies wore protective garments under their cloaks. But then he probably didn't even know. That patent imbecile was so dedicated to the court and the bottle that he wasn't even aware his men took initiatives of their own.

Well, that small detail could be arranged. As the commiserate leader of a friendly world, Nikolaï could pay a Royal visit to the unconscious hero and discreetly finish the man himself.

***** ***** *****

If there was one advantage to the recent events in Lotor's life, it was that he could play at being overcome and actually be realistic enough to fool an observer. Both he and his master assumed the place could be spied on from Keith's little mise en scène. While he apparently sobbed, awkwardly leaning on the bars and clutching his Khiara master, they exchanged information in whispers. He was glad to hear of his little ferret and her adventure. At the same time he was worried for her. Another new emotion. They just kept coming. Like this debilitating fear that the spirits could return.

The cells were not at all like the dungeons of Doom. They had real beds with good blankets, a curtained toilet, a table and even a cushioned chair. Kovak commented that all this looked better then what he had in his unit. They had come to the conclusion that they could only wait. As an escape artist, that kind of confinement was nothing to the ex-prince, but his flight would just make everybody more suspicious of him. He just hoped that Allura wasn't naive enough to fall for this. But who was he trying to fool? He had to be one of the easiest framing target in this part of the galaxy.

He went for his bed, imitating his master who was already trying it out. Lotor admired him just then. Kovak was happily saying how the bed was good and comfortable, and "look at the nice mirror, I wish I had one like that." He didn't seem worried at all. Khiara masters had this rule to live in the present, be conscious of what surrounds you, they said, and use it. But don't let it cloud your mind. Kovak sauntered around, making the place comfortable. Lotor smiled with something very close to affection.

The lights suddenly went out. The place was pitch black and Lotor shivered, remembering how his attackers thrived in darkness. But in seconds, visitors came with ancient spy lanterns. Fidget and Marnott. The big spy came right to the cell, while Fidget stayed near the entrance, weapon drawn.

"Is this black out on purpose?" Lotor asked hopefully.

"Unhum, it is," confirmed Marnott. "We did a little spying out of boundaries and discovered all manners of extraordinary things."

Lotor came closer to the bars. So did Kovak.

"The place is bugged, there is a cam right there," Marnott pointed. He waved his fingers at it. It was quite invisible. "Pity it isn't functioning now," he continued, smiling. "I hope you don't mind if we snatched your butterflies? They enabled us to see the troop movements this very afternoon. We took a few precautions and doubled our numbers, we just didn't tell our esteemed leader."

"I conclude you know who you're up against?"

"Let's not say names. We found a rather magical looking device in his suite. It showed this place. Maybe he is a mage or something, and those can sense when certain key words are pronounced."

"Was it a rather flat bowl mounted in a tripod, with mercury in it? Glowing green?"

"Yeah, exactly that."

"That belongs to Ha... our witch."

"It does?" Marnott addressed his companion. "See Fidget, you were right, there is a Has Been angle to this." He turned back to Lotor. "The team gave us two of your centipedes; we know our quarry isn't in his room now, so he couldn't be using his magic gadget. This fake black out won't last long. We came to let you know we know. We need a little time to confound him, though. We thought that it would make your stay a little less unpleasant if you knew it's temporary."

"I understand. As for what he is after, it's rather obvious he wants the princess."

"Yeah," said Fidget, "we figured that, and he did seem well on his way to obtain it. For that he just needs his sweetness, his rank and a bit of mush. But the fake drule coup doesn't fit in. This bit about the witch helps. We needed a confirmation on this. Thanks."

"The formula is you're welcome, I think. Has Been?" Asked Lotor with a smirk. "Is that who I think it is?"

The two spies just grinned. Lotor laughed. He turned somber again as the spies left and sighed gratefully, about five minutes later, when the lights came back on. He could have sworn he had begun to hear the spirits whisper again. He was hugging himself on his bed and was mortified that his master saw him like this, but the old drule just smiled. Lotor was still coughing and sneezing every now and then, and he had a splitting headache.

"You should rest, my prince."

"You won't stop calling me that, will you, Master?"

"No."

Lotor sighed, removed his boots and went to bed. He was sound asleep when the lights came out again. Kovak didn't wake him. The spirits would certainly attack and having his prince wait in frightened anticipation was useless. He saw them, strange lines of sick light that insinuated themselves on the walls, crawling toward the prince's bed. They slithered under the sheets, and Lotor woke up suddenly. Kovak could see by the green line of light that caressed his head the prince's face contort in agony.

***** ***** *****

Nikolaï was standing in front of Marble's chamber door. Two burly soldiers stood guard and stopped his motion to enter.

"Sorry, your Majesty, but we have specific orders to deny everyone entry except medical personnel."

"Don't you know I'm a Royal?" Nikolaï threw at the guard, exasperated.

"We answer only to our own Royal, Princess Allura. If she changes this order herself, then you may visit, but with no such instructions, we are obligated to ask you to leave. Your Majesty." The guard added belatedly.

Furious, but not in any position to show it, Nikolaï went in hunt of the princess to have this order changed. It was certainly just a misunderstanding.

***** ***** *****

Allura was rather surprised that Nanny was accompanied this night. Rose followed her dutifully everywhere. When Nanny came in her room for her usual evening chat, the little ferret came right along.

"My dear Princess!" (A/N I won't even try to reproduce her accent!) "How was your day?"

That was the usual question Nanny asked when she undid Allura's bun. The princess's hair spilled on her shoulders in cascades of gold. Nanny started to brush it.

"Very strange and eventful, as you probably heard."

"Indeed, those terrible men and their questions... Allura, don't you think they are stepping just a bit out of their jurisdiction there?"

"I do. I'm playing along for now, Nanny. I want to know up to where Nikolaï is mistaking me for a wide-eyed imbecile. I'm preparing counterattack."

"Such a pity, he was a nice looking prince... This place is still secure, isn't it?"

"Of course Nanny."

"Rose, your report!"

And little Rose told her story.

"I'm not going to waste my time asking you what you were doing in the woods," said Allura, looking askance at Rose. "Fidget and Marnott found out many facts that they reported directly to me. Your findings confirm many things. You should report this to the castle spies."

"Well, said Rose reluctantly, Nikolaï has been with dad a lot. As he is not what you'd call fascinating company, I guess the prince just pumped him for information."

"You'll have to report this directly to Marnott. For now, he's the boss in my book. I just didn't tell your dad. Yet."

"Ally, I'm sure dad had no bad intentions, he just thinks... well he doesn't, that's the problem I guess. He was so happy to bask in the prince's attention! He would never believe me if I told him Nikolaï is a crook, because it doesn't fit into his image of how things should be, and how gentlemen should behave. When this image is shaken he drinks to put it right, and well, he's been drinking all the time lately."

"I'm sorry Rose."

"I'm used to it by now..."

But her dark eyes were filled with tears. Nanny held her close. It didn't last, though, and she pushed herself upright again, sniffling.

"Rose dear," said Nanny in sudden inspiration, "what would you say if we brought a snack to our late working spies, you could do your report. Do you think it'd look suspicious?"

"That's a wicked good idea, Ma. You do have a spy in you after all."

"Come then, brainstorm!" Nanny beamed. "Good night princess!"

"G'nite, Ally!"

Allura watched them go. The little flower had certainly put some action in Nanny's lonely life. Rose was a like a portable sun, and the princess thought on how she had brightened Lotor's world as well. Lotor! He was alone in a cell, wouldn't the spirits attack him again? Perhaps this was part of the plan, to isolate him like that. Just then there was another black out. She decided her day wasn't over yet.

***** ***** *****

Kovak covered his ears and cried. There was nothing he could do to help Lotor, who was screeching horribly in his cell as the nasty looking ribbons of strange light surrounded and lifted him. It looked infinitely painful. The serpents of light wrapped themselves on his body and hissed words in a strange language. It was pitch dark, the only thing Kovak could make out were those ribbons, and they cast light only on the prince, none of it spilling on the cell, as if it were encapsulated somehow.

Then the cell lights came on again, hurting his eyes. He was momentarily blinded and relied on his ears. The hissing stopped, and he heard a thumping sound. Lotor didn't scream anymore, he was moaning 'get out of my head' and then silence. Kovak heard people walking in. He began to see somewhat. The V-team was there, all five of them.

"Oh dear!" Exclaimed Allura, seeing Lotor had collapsed on the floor.

There was also a pale, shaking guard. He was explaining that he heard something was going on in there, but no matter what he tried, he couldn't come any closer. It was as if something pushed him away.

"It...ttt felt h...horrible, your M...Majesty," the guard whimpered, his head down in shame. "I... couldn't p...pass through, itt...ttt was c..cold and it f..frightened me silly."

"We have a good idea what it is," said Allura gently. "Do you live alone?"

"I...I have three k...kids. T...thought I'd n...never see them ag...again."

"Open those cells and then go to your family. I'll have you replaced for tonight. Do not worry, you won't be blamed. Fighting the supernatural is not supposed to come with this job."

"T...Thank you, your M...Majesty," said the relieved guard.

He opened Lotor's cell and Allura approached the drule cautiously. He had curled in a tight, shaking, silent ball. She put her hand on his shoulder and he gave a little start, but otherwise didn't react.

"They're gone, Lotor."

He still didn't budge.

"Please say something," she pleaded.

He slowly uncurled a bit and lowered his trembling hands off his face. He tried to speak but couldn't. He was trying hard to catch his breath.

"All right, yes and no. Can you make any sense of what I'm saying?"

He nodded slightly.

"Are you hurt anywhere?"

No.

"Are you cold?"

He nodded yes. Hunk put him on the bed and piled blankets on him.

"Don't worry. You're out of here. So is Kovak," she added, looking at the Khiara Master.

Allura took lotor's hand and told him he was safe now. He didn't answer, he just squeezed her hand, holding on for dear life. She winced a little but let him. The medics arrived and he was taken to the medwing, still curled up fetus like and holding on to her with desperation.

The palace was filled with Arisian soldiers; Allura had taken matters in hand. She had decided her best defense would be to surprise Nikolaï while he was still confident his plan had worked. He had been very surprised indeed!

Lance commented later that they were caught with their pants down. Nikolaï was invited to recall his men and stay in his quarters in a manner that left no doubt that even if he pleaded diplomatic immunity, she would shove it right where it hurt the most.

Hunk had been right. When Allura couldn't bypass an obstacle, she passed right over it. Nikolaï was aghast to see this determined woman instead of that I'm-overcome-by-your-charm girl. She had tricked him! Lotor was free and Hagar would be furious!


	19. On the Utility of a Pink Dress

We are nearing the end of my written chapters for a while.

This one is mostly Allura. :-)

1

**On the Utility of a Pink Dress**

The Yellow Lion pilot wasn't the only one who had discovered the advantages of being underestimated. Allura looked sweet and naive. Her pink dress elevated her beauty to the realm of the surreally sweet. Her huge blue eyes radiated kindness and sincerity. Her petite figure and her milk white skin brought to mind a porcelain doll, and with it the image that she could easily be toyed with or broken.

When Nikolaï had arrived, he had fallen for that instantly. Keith or even _Lotor _didn't mistake her for such a wide-eyed doe.

The Cerillian prince explained everything to her when he spoke of politics, as if she was too dense to understand all that stuff. She could have shown him a thing or two about intergalactic relationships! It drove her up the curtains. Still, she was so drilled in that I'm-so-sweet role that she played right in. She even pushed it to its limits by wearing her nicest strawberry shortcake dresses.

She made it into a game; it was rather obvious he was one of the many suitors that had shoved themselves on her, one of the most notoriously rich princesses in this quadrant. She had followed every single advice Nanny had given her to befuddle men. Don't cut in when he speaks, even and especially if he what he says is an enormity. Laugh at his jokes even if they're not funny. Look up to him as if he was a genius and you his attentive and enraptured student.

Allura thought she understood Nanny somewhat better now. All of this had enabled her to maintain an picture perfect image of a nice leetle preencess ready to be plucked out of the tree, not to use an expression even more graphic. It had kept Nikolaï utterly confidant she was going to swallow anything he said, and even leave him free rein to act on her planet to "ease her burdens". Even Coran, the Commander and the wily Lotor had been convinced she was actually falling for him.

She had been surprised at the depth of their reaction. Lotor's fury and fear that she would be taken advantage of, and Keith's sad resignation, which he probably thought she hadn't seen.

She sighed as she held Lotor's hand. He was sedated and utterly out of it, but he still held on. Rose stated it was "kawaii", whatever that meant. Allura knew that no picture perfect, cookie cutter prince, a prince that was Nanny's dream come true, would ever come close to the intensity of love both Keith and Lotor felt for her.

This sort of playing at not seeing things had its utilities. She always knew if she showed the slightest affection for Keith, Lotor's will to resort to violence would be so hard to resist, it would be torture. And if she came any closer to Lotor, Keith would be heroically accepting but sad for the remainder of his life. All those reflections had been prompted by Rose comments:

"Look at how Snow is holding your hand so hard in his sleep... So kawaii. And Keith! He's so relieved that you kicked Nikolaï out, I think he must still be levitating in joy. When you were giving orders with your hair all undone like that... he had stars in his eyes and he blushed! I wish I were this appealing."

"Honestly, Rose, you don't. But since you bring it up, what would you do in my place?"

They were alone in Lotor's room; Allura had taken the first watch for two reasons. First, she was furious and doubted she could have slept at all. And second, Lotor wouldn't let go her hand. Rose thought for a moment. She absent-mindedly stroked her Snow's hair.

"They're very soft, you know?"

"I never dared touch them! If I did he'd be all over me in an instant."

"Al, he's fast asleep..."

Rose smiled as she saw Allura timidly caress the white mane.

"My Dear!... I mean... wow," whispered Allura, blushing and taking her hand away as if she had done a terrible thing.

"To answer your question," Rose began, "well, mmm, I have no idea. I like them both and I wouldn't want to hurt either of them. I guess I would play dumb a little. You know, I'm too innocent to think you might be thinking of me in other ways then your trustworthy teammate. Wait. That's exactly what you're doing, neh? Pink dresses do have their utilities don't they?"

"Indeed."

"But I couldn't do that indefinitely."

"So you see its not all fun to be 'this appealing'. I don't know how to step out of that Gordian knot without cutting somebody. I keep hoping I'll find a solution."

"Al, can you keep a secret?"

"Of course I can. I can do even better then that: I already know your secret."

"Eeep!" cried Rose, blushing bright pink. She stopped stroking the white hair to put both her hands on her mouth. "Does it show?" She asked desperately.

"Don't forget I'm an expert at playing innocent. So I'm right, am I? You love him."

"Don't tell him! He'd be appalled! I'm only thirteen! He likes me, it would ruin everything! I'm way too young for him," she added sadly. "But I would so love to see him happy. When he smiles at my stories, my heart takes a ten miles leap! Oh Al, please don't tell on me!"

"Don't worry I won't tell. It's good to see I'm not the only one playing around pretending to be a little girl, innocent and wide-eyed..."

"Thanks," Rose said as she turned to him, relieved. "I feel I could wait for him forever," she continued. "I hover, but he sees only you. How could he not? I'm just a silly girl."

"Rose, you are a girl who's becoming a young woman fast! And you are certainly not silly. I'm sure he'd be very happy with you."

Rose flashed her a grateful smile.

"I don't know what awaits him," continued Allura. "He is forced in great changes. Who knows how he'll come out of it? Or even if he'll make it at all. But I think he does need both of us right now, so we can continue to play our role for awhile..."

Rose was stroking his hair again. She smiled at Allura.

"So you'll still be wearing pink?" She asked rather impishly.

"I'm afraid so," answered Allura with a sigh.

"I don't know if we should tell Ma you're on to me..."

"On what?"

"She knows my secret, too."

"She does?! Is she mad at you?"

"Don't forget I'm just a countess-to-be, not a princess. Its _you_ she wants to act all proper. She says it's a phase and it'll pass. That I can try, though."

Nanny being open and understanding on an issue as delicate as a teenage crush? She blinked in surprise. Maybe Nanny was a pastel deceiver as well! Rose smirked and hugged her, gave a little peck on Lotor's forehead, and was gone.

Allura turned her gaze on the sleeper. He looked so peaceful. His hair was spilled in graceful swirls on the pillow. 'Lotor,' she thought, 'I hope someday you'll see what a treasure you've caught.' She suddenly felt a strange lump in her throat. 'Dear me, I think I'm jealous!'

***** ***** *****

Lotor woke some time later and saw Allura sleeping in a comfortable cushioned chair beside his bed. This had to be paradise. He realized he was holding her hand rather hard; her normally pink little fingers looked somewhat bluish. He sheepishly released his grip and she opened her eyes.

"I'm sorry, d...did I hurt you?"

"It's all right. At least you can speak now..."

The sun was spilling in the room and on her hair.

"So beautiful," he murmured.

"What?"

"Nothing. What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

"I remember they came," he said, becoming pale. "I assumed you stopped them since I'm here again."

"Nikolaï tried to pull a fast one, but I'm well surrounded with competent people. We found out. His soldiers are off world and he disappeared."

"He had an artifact..." Lotor began alarmingly.

"That belongs to Hagar. It disappeared as well, but we know about it. We think some of the plan was to isolate you from us so the... things could get at you. That fake drule angle was just Nikolaï trying to gain my trust by 'saving' my realm. The Lions told Keith that the dark blue spirit has chosen his host."

"Let me guess. Nikolaï?"

"Right."

"How's your hand?"

He looked so desolate that Allura smiled in encouragement.

"I'll survive, thank you."

"Thank _you_. I don't think I could have resisted them this time."

"All five of us came just to make sure they'd scatter off. Enjoy it now, because it's my only shift. I only stayed because we couldn't brake your death grip on my hand. The guys will stay with you from now on."

"Oh," said a disappointed Lotor. "He's gone?"

"You mean Nikolaï? Yes."

"Did you... I mean are you... sad?"

"Just flustered. I have too many suitors..."

Lotor sighed. I'm included in that lot, he thought. Only, I haven't got a chance. But he recalled how his master had lived the present, and he forced himself to look how the sun made a golden halo around her. He wondered he she would mind if he took her hand again?

"Show me your hand."

Allura showed him. Her fingers had regained a healthy color.

"Not this one," he said, "the other one."

"Why..."

He took hold of it with infinite care.

"Please," he pleaded.

And he closed his eyes. You clever, clever man, murmured Allura. Well, it was certainly a good sign if he resorted to small strategies like that.

Later, when Lance came in to begin his own shift, he noticed the change of hands. He teased Allura on it. She had him sit in her chair, took the sleeping prince's hand and placed it right in Lance's with a wicked grin.

"He'd jump a foot high, Princess. You're worse then I am! And that's saying something."

"I'm so tired I feel drunk. I'm going straight to bed. Don't get too bored, and if you do don't let him catch you doing things that would make Nanny blush."

"See... worse them me! Sleep well! Have sweet, wicked dreams!"

"I intend to."

Lance blinked. Where was the princess who never seemed to have a clue when he told dirty jokes? Then he smiled his lopsided grin. It was about time she dropped the mask in front of him...

***** ***** *****

Only one more chapter before I hit a lost part I'll have to rewrite. *sigh*, I liked that part, too. It had Lance ;-), it had Keith pushed in a corner concerning his feelings... ^_^ *sigh* T_T


	20. Secrets and revelations

1Pidge holds the scene in this one.

_This is my last typed chapter_. The couple next fried with my late computer. I have to re-write those, then I have to write a few new ones. The story picks up in already written chapters, but those are all hand written. Is it worth the effort? You tell me.

Teasers for what would come :

Lance will end up in a dire situation when he has to defend Arus practically by himself.

Lotor will have his engineering skills tried to the limit.

He'll make his decisions at the end of his trial year... not telling!

Keith will find out that if he is ever to find romance, he'll have to move his ***... and he will! ;-)

Allura will finally be able to revoke all those obsolete laws, but not until they almost cause irretrievable damage.

Keith and Hunk will be trapped out of Arus at some point.

We'll get to see Lotor mother's world.

Want it? Ask. Clic the review button. I know the design changed, but its not that hard to find, gents! :-)

119- Revelations and Secrets

It had been a couple of weeks since the cerillian incident. Pidge was seated with his laptop on Lotor's chair. The prince was back in his own room. He went to his Khiara lessons in the morning, and afterwards he would walk in the woods with his "classmate" Rose. One of the boys would be with them. They were surprised to find how those two played a wicked game of spotting spies. Now that Marnott was in charge, it was a better challenge.

The new spyleader had told them to enjoy it while they could, for they were training dogs now. Robots and people were relatively easy to hide from, but dogs? Lotor said he had lost a good occasion to shut up when he'd told Marnott that dogs would have hindered him on his visits.

Pidge had observed all this with wonder. Rose was an accomplished stealth spy. He wasn't outdoors very often, being the computer wizard that he was, but he found he enjoyed those morning strolls. Of course, he was also relieved when he grabbed hold of his laptop to peer into his virtual universe.

He had sunburns. Lance had teased him that he was such a mushroom that his body wouldn't know what to do with all this vitamin D. Pidge winced as he adjusted his position in the chair. He decided Lance had been right. Ouch.

Now Rose was gone and he was guarding the ex-prince in his quarters, and it made Pidge uneasy. Not that he was scared of Lotor. He was just embarrassed to be in close quarter with their enemy like this. So he clicked away, waiting for this shift to be over. Lotor wasn't much of a conversationalist. So Pidge jumped a little when he looked up from his drawings to ask:

"Did you ever hack into the files father has on you guys?"

"Not really."

"Ahh. That's what I thought. Soo..." drawled Lotor with a sly grin, "that means you might not know yourself..."

Pidge frowned.

"I figured that maybe you people didn't know by the noble's attitude toward you," Lotor continued. "They make a great deal of ignoring whoever is not of their ilk..."

"What do you mean?"

"Ever wonder where the name "Pidge" came from?"

"Why, of course... it's in the orphanage books. The only entry for me was PdGE."

"Ever notice that you didn't have the habitual s. nob beside it?"

"I... er no not really. That means Sine nobilitate*, doesn't it?"

"Yes, without nobility. When father noticed he wanted to know why and then forgot about it. But I didn't. I had a couple of info mongers look into it."

"You sure had time to waste... My biological parents never tried to contact me, I assumed they are either dead or not interested," said Pidge, a little irritated that someone had pried into his past like that.

"Know thine enemy, isn't that a human saying? So you have no idea who they are..."

It was a statement. Pidge wished he'd stopped toying around and told him so. Lotor smirked, such intensity!

"Your real name is Philippe de Grand-Eloi. You, my diminutive antagonist, are a Baron."

"WHAT?"

"You may tell the next cretin looking at you from above to address you as My Lord..."

Lotor was jubilating. This was such fun! Even though it was basically good news. Wait. That made it even better. To see the little hacker look at him with obvious skepticism made him smirk. Pidge went right to his keyboard and started typing furiously.

"I can double-check that, _Prince_, so you better not be toying with me."

"I conclude dear father's databases are not Pidge proof..."

"Mnmh."

The ex-prince observed with an expectant look. It took some time, but his grin widened when he saw Pidge pale visibly.

"And why would I lie on such a thing, My _Lord_?" Teased Lotor.

"W... Why didn't you tell me before?"

"We're enemies, remember? There was nothing to be gained from this little bit of useless information. Green Lion pilot is descended of a great human line, French, if I remember correctly. What could be done with that? I left it in the database, but didn't bother to tell anybody."

Pidge was speechless. Man, what the hell was he going to tell the others? Wait. Maybe he shouldn't tell at all! Still, having those snotty nobles not ignore him anymore... but, he didn't want anything to do with them. I'm running in a loophole here, he thought.

"I wish you wouldn't go around telling on me."

Lotor raised his eyebrow.

"I need to gather more info. Be a nice villain and keep not saying."

"In exchange of?"

"Nothing. I don't play at that kind of game."

"A wise noble," said Lotor, caught between disappointment and admiration. "Now I've seen it all."

"Stay silent, say, out of the kindness of your heart, if you have any."

"I don't understand," Lotor flatly stated.

Pidge looked embarrassed.

"I think I like it the way it is now. I'd hate to have Keith being shy with me. Hunk or Lance wouldn't change their attitude, rank doesn't impress them much, but Keith would make a big deal of it. And besides, I'd have to attend those awful dinners. In a costume!" He added with horror.

Lotor smirked.

"Rose and Allura would be delighted to have someone at those dinners who has more then two neurons connected... It bores them."

"Well," retorted Pidge, "_you_ can go."

"I've been stripped of rank, even though everybody here seems intent on ignoring it..."

"You're still Zarcon's son. They couldn't refuse you without changing their own rules, and its an ironclad law here that such titles cannot be revoked. Allura tried to change it for _years_. She would have retrograded a few, that's for sure."

"So _that's_ why they insist on calling me Prince."

"Sure. To deny it would create a dangerous precedent. So you can eat at their table. Think of all the great fun you could have eating and listening to their fascinating conversations! The scandals real and/or imagined across the galaxy! Who are the most interesting bachelors, and who sleeps with who..." Pidge smiled in fake beatitude, rolling his eyes.

"Mph. I see what you mean."

"Did you have those on Doom?"

"Oh yes," said Lotor disgustedly. "Eating squeezed between Father and his witch. Listening to the guests grovelling to win favours. Charming, really."

He looked bitter all of a sudden.

"I didn't mean to bring back bad memories."

Lotor looked at him curiously. He thought he had those five humans all figured out. Pidge the disconsolate orphan. Lance the angry one. Allura, his love. Keith, the most disgustingly noble heart and Hunk, well, the eater. And he had them right, he figured, but had seen just the surface.

"I won't tell if you wish it that way, but I think if I were you, I'd tell at least Allura."

"Whatever for?"

"So you can claim your fortune and your lands... It's sleeping in an account, and as for the lands, you know Balto was destroyed, but its less known that it was a two planets consortium. You own a fortified city that is abandoned, but there is a manor and it's rather huge."

Lotor's eyes got a faraway look.

"I have a nice fleet of ships hidden there. I had forgotten about that..."

"What?" Exclaimed Pidge, aghast. "Do you have many of those stashed away?"

"Oh yes," Lotor smiled darkly.

"Your father must have seized them."

"He would have if he were aware of it..."

"So you have an army."

"More or less. When father automated his fleet, the old ships were sent to recuperation. I 'recuperated' them all right... But it's just a bunch of spaceships. So much scrap metal without pilots."

"And do you have any more of that 'useless' information?"

"You have access now."

"I'm talking about stuff that wouldn't be in a computer. You don't seem the type to keep files on such stuff."

"I'm not an idiot. If I had you'd have hacked in it. I'm about as good at computers as I am in embroidery."

Pidge smiled. He asked about the 'useless' information again.

"Telling you all would finish this game. And I happen to like it..."

"Keith would have you spill it out."

"I doubt it. He's too nice."

"We're all too nice, but the five of us together..."

"I'm bored, my Lord Baron, and keeping you on charcoals like this is something to do in those long afternoons..."

"Take up embroidery."

"I'm not pregnant," retorted Lotor.

"A pity," said Pidge slyly. "It'd keep you entertained..."

Lotor growled, but in good humor. That is to say only one of his fangs showed up.

"Well, there is one thing I might tell, and it concerns Lance." He conceded. "But it's something he may not want people to know, just as you..."

"Mph. His shift is next. Now don't play with him, Lotor. He'd reconfigure your face."

"Aw. You're no fun, my _Lord_."

He had said that in a manner remarkably similar to Lance. Pidge thought that if Lotor ever really reformed, a conversation between those two would certainly make Nanny have a heart attack. And the pranks! Dear heaven, the pranks...

***** ***** *****

Keith was worried when Pidge told him Lotor had enough hidden info to start living off the Voltron Force by blackmailing them. But Lance was downright alarmed. What did the snake unearth on him? When he took his turn he confronted the drule right off.

"I said I would tell, but do take a seat."

Lance was inches away from the ex-prince, looking murderous. Lotor just waited.

"Well?"

"The Ikari connection. I know about it."

"To which extent?" Lance asked, reluctantly taking a seat.

"Rather large. I know you're part of a loose network of informants that took shape during the our invasions. They don't seem to have any central headquarters, and it made them quite impossible to swat. I didn't know they still existed after my capture, but your meeting with Ikari confirmed it. I suspect that Rose and some castle spies are secretly part of it as well, at least Marble, for they use a sign language, and I saw her use it on a few occasions to tell him something."

"You clever devil. How long?"

"Years."

"Why didn't you tell?"

"Father would have sent me in a wild goose chase after them. I didn't feel like it. You did know that Ikari was my slave for some years."

"And she escaped."

"You may ask her about that "escape" some day..."

"She did tell me she was part of your rather infamous and large harem."

"It _was_ large, yes," said Lotor, smiling dreamily.

"She said you were very open to experimentation."

"Why not? I had it all then. And it all didn't mean much. We had fun."

"She has an odd kind of respect for you..."

"...And she thinks you're fabulous."

"She does?" Asked Lance with an expression that made Lotor smile wickedly.

"Why ask me? Ask her..."

***** ***** *****

Later, Lance was pacing the lab in which Pidge and Hunk worked.

"So," asked Pidge, "did he frighten the hell out of you with secrets?"

"No. But his knowing this makes me feel embarrassed. I wonder if I should tell you guys."

"I wonder the same thing. Two heads are better then one... I'll tell you mine if you promise not to laugh."

"Ok."

"Look."

Pidge hacked the database again, but this time Lance was following the maneuver. Seeing the title and the name, he whistled, and Hunk turned around, but he saw how intent they were, and he was a tactful person. He returned to his adjusting.

"You're laughing," accused Pidge.

"Mfphtbt... no I'm not. It's hard though. Ff, Ph..? How do you pronounce that?"

"I have no idea. Lotor said it something like fill-eep."

"Mind if I keep calling you Pidge?"

"Please do. So what do you think, should I tell?"

"Well, maybe just the five of us. I feel somewhat guilty. Your revelation will cover mine..."

"What is it?"

"I'll tell the whole team."

"If you do then so will I."

They decided to set a meeting, and as their charge Lotor was there as well. They were in the garden that evening, and it reminded Keith of the time they had read the prince's letter. Lotor didn't know what it was about, but he had a good idea.

"Well," said Lance, a subdued look lowering his eyelashes on his rather pink cheeks, "the _prince_ here as condescended to give us a few of the facts he gathered about me and Pidge during his reign."

"And you have something infamous to confess," teased Allura.

"Not infamous. Mmm, Lotor, since you know so much, tell them."

"I'd rather take up embroidery, thank you."

"Aw, come on Lance," said Hunk reassuringly. "We're all a family here, except for the adopted campanule there, but he knows already. What is it, you're a father and didn't tell us?"

"Pfah, he must have several disseminated all over the quadrant," quipped Keith.

"Har har. Well, here goes: I'm part of a team."

"We know that already..."

"That is not Voltron related."

"Oh."

"It's kind of, as Lotor put it, a network of informants. We supplied the resistance with intelligence from all over."

"Is it the Lost Net?" Asked Allura.

"Y... you know us?"

"I lead this planet, Lance... I also helped the resistance and had business with them. I didn't know you were part of it, though."

"I'm known in there as..."

"Stray!" Completed Keith triumphantly.

"Yes," said Lance sheepishly.

"I suspected it, and that reptile on Vh'tai, he's in it as well. And... Ikari! No wonder you teased me out of my wits!"

"Ikari?" Asked Allura.

"Well, the _prince_ probably knows about her as well," accused Keith with disgust.

"Of course," smirked Lotor.

"Mph."

"Is that all, Lance?" Asked Allura.

"Yep. Well, Rose is in, so is Marble. There is no list, just a jumble of recognition signs. I don't think any would object if I showed you guys, but you understand such a thing works better when nobody knows about it," Lance said, looking askance at Lotor.

He just smiled his dark smile.

"I'm sorry, guys," Lance continued. "I just didn't want to compromise friends. Some are not exactly on the bright side of the law. On the other hand, It didn't seem fair that _he_ should know and not you."

"That's it? It's no big deal in my book," said Hunk.

"I'm actually glad," said Allura. "I was wondering how to keep contact with them."

"It explains a lot, and as commander, I always wondered if I should make you spill about that Stray thing. That's one less problem..."

"You mean it?"

"Lance," said Hunk, "we all knew you were an overactive scoundrel. It just puts meat on the bone..."

"There he goes again," teased Pidge, "always food."

"And it's accurate too," retorted Hunk in good humor.

"Why?" Suddenly asked Keith. He was asking Lotor.

"Why I didn't tell then or why I'm telling now?"

"Both."

"I had connections in the Lost Net. I didn't want father to find out. I didn't even want him to know they exist. Now, well, since I'm here and I have to play by your rules... I'm not inclined to spout grateful drivel. I'd rather act, and there isn't much I can do. Take these informations as your thank you for keeping the spirits away from me."

Allura smiled at that.

"Pidge," she said, "now it's your turn."

"Well, you have to swear you won't change. Especially you, Keith."

"Change what?"

"Your attitude. I don't want any other to know either."

"Dear me, that sounds ominous, Pidge," said the princess.

"Mister the _prince_ here found out who I am."

"What? But that's wonderful, Pidge," she exclaimed.

"In a way. How do you pronounce my name, again?"

"Philippe de Grand-Eloi."

"Grand-Eloi?" Asked Allura, her eyes widening. "Are you sure?"

"Alas."

"But Pidge, that makes you at least a count!" Said Allura, delighted.

"A Baron, actually."

"He has lands and a decrepit manor," cut in Lotor impishly.

"That you hid a fleet in!"

"Well, yes."

Allura gave him a peck on the cheek! She thought this was grand, not to be the only one here being handicapped by noble bloodlines. He flushed bright pink. They all congratulated him.

Lotor asked if the Barons got a kiss on the cheek, what do Princes get? Nice try, she retorted. They all got into the castle, chatting happily, but Keith wondered if they had seen the last of these revelations...

***** ***** *****

* Ok, about the Sine Nobilitate thing, snob or snab is a word you can look up in Wikipedia, it doesn't actually originate as sine nobilitate, but the thing is widely believed. Humor me, let's just say that in the Voltron Universe, it's used in lists to signify humble origins in schools and such. That is a fact even if it's not mentioned in my research that it was actually used in orphanages.

I did research also on Pidge himself. It's said he comes from earth, but later on that Balto is his planet. Also he has a brother (in Vehicle Voltron). Let's us say, for the sake of the story, that both ended up in a earth orphanage at a very young age (that will be explained later in the story). They were adopted separately. Their biological parents are from Balto, and Balto was part of a 2 planet consortium. How did the second planet escape from the Doom fleet? By treachery! But that's later in the story folks...

For Keith fans : no, he won't end up with Ikari. With whom you say? Not telling! It would be a huge spoiler.

Remember... review! Pleeeeaaase... *throws cookies* Help me find motivation to rewrite the next part. I already said that, but again : I detest rewriting, grrrr!


	21. Second interlude

1Sigh... I was pretty sure I wouldn't get comments on my last chapter, and told myself, La, make peace with your ego and abandon this.

And then, this morning, I open my computer and Lo! A review asking me to keep writing. Thanks, Karina, for the useful comments. Lotor and Allura will have their moment too. He avoids her for a reason! He's not sure he would be able to resist jumping her! He stays as far as he can. Its hard... He's not used at all not to just grab what he wants. But they will have a very serious talk.

Since someone asked me to, I'll guess I'll have to continue the story.

But, you do realise you've just given me a lot of work? And Real Life is about to get pretty hectic, too.

I have at _least _8 readers, counting by the number of countries in my traffic statistics. I even got one from Trinidad! Only a couple of clics though, I think he or she didn't come back. Still, I was pretty excited, here in Quebec we are about to have our first snowstorm of the year, it's fun to imagine someone reading my story in the warm sun, far, far away.

People from Australia too, they are at the beginning of summer! Its on the other side of the earth! :-) Italy (got a half Italian cousin who calls me La teribile La (not sure of the spelling), Singapore, Indonesia, USA, fellow Canadians, Austria and Hungary!

I guess I have to rewrite those chapters after all. *Sigh...* And type all those hand written ones. And also figure out how to fill the time jumps.

I'm juggling medical issues, work, the upcoming concert (I'm alto in a local choir, its brand new so I don't know any of the parts, its pretty challenging to learn it all for December 5th). I'll do my best.

Thank Karina, readers, I had pretty much told myself that if nobody asked, I'd give it up. I really thought that I could motivate myself solely on the traffic stats, but I do need feedback after all.

And as a reward for having read all that, I post at the same time a chapter freshly out of the keyboard. Part of it was written in the hospital, while I waited for an exam. So it was re-written, and then retyped! Enjoy!


	22. Unwanted Sacrifice

1**Unwanted Sacrifice**

A few weeks passed during which Zarcon left Aris completely at peace. They didn't know what this meant, this lull, but they surmised it couldn't be anything good.

The Opponents were increasingly aggressive, using a guerilla tactic that proved to be trying for all the V team.

During one of Pidge's shifts, the small Baron was happily clicking away on his laptop while Lotor was taking his morning shower. They were as far as possible in the suite without bumping into a wall.

The Opponents attack was as brutal as it was swift. Upon hearing a scream, Pidge's quick mind immediately understood what was happening and was at the bathroom's door in seconds. As he got closer, the spirits evaporated, and a moment later Lotor stumbled out, his caftan askew, his eyes wild and his hair soggily draping his shoulders.

It had been mere seconds, but Lotor didn't want to relive that kind of attack anytime soon. He hated being assaulted in such a way he couldn't fight back.

They soon discovered, following this incident, that the pilots had to stay within close proximity, otherwise, the spirits took advantage.

This new constant was hard on both the pilots and the ex-prince. Lotor became more irritable and nervous. He lost his newly acquired khiaran grace to revert to the furious madman he'd become prior to his exile.

***** ***** *****

Lance was on guard duty that night. Lotor was pacing his room, visibly preoccupied. The repetitive turns and furious pace was dizzying.

"Will you stop that?" Lance huffed, exasperated. "You're driving me nuts."

"Is that so," began Lotor frostily, "What about your insipid staring? Shall we run a wager on who will drive the other insane first?"

"You'd win for sure! What the hell is eating you?"

"Should I rattle it on by your alphabetical order? Take your pick! I can't take two steps without you around so close it's a wonder nobody yet made inane comments on our preferences. Moreover, people are starting to stare at me with looks of pity. PITY!"

Lotor was once again trembling in impotent, barely restrained ire. Lance was not far from downright anger. This keeping close to the drule didn't appeal any more to him.

"Its not as if we have a choice," said Lance. "Would you rather have these spirits even closer, meaning right inside you?"

Lotor sat down abruptly on his bed.

"Of course not. Don't mistake me, pilot. I'm aware how this must be despicable to you. But being this closed in is unbearable."

"That may be the one thing we have in common, Doom and gloom. How about we go in the forest? That might calm us a bit, enough so we'll wont come to a fist fight..."

"Excellent idea. Let's get out of here. The stale air is getting to me."

Lance had not made this proposition without giving a thought to the spirit's love of darkness, but the moon was full and the lone wolf knew how the forest was lit in its magical silvery glow. He thought that it was so beautiful, so sacred somehow, that it should be safe haven.

Lance wandered in his territory. The fiery pilot had a heart so big, that even if it was filled with bitterness, it was still generous, and he brought the agitated drule to his favourite calming spot, his lake.

Without a word, he settled on a small sandy beach, barely large enough to merit the name.

Lotor resumed his pacing, but at a more sedate rhythm.

"All right," said Lance at last. "What crawled up your ***? And don't sell me that crap about listing your peeves. There's something specific, else you'd have been this strung up all the time."

"Why should I tell _you_"?

"I'm here and listening... it's not as if you have many friends to confide to..."

Lotor snarled at the sarcasm, but nevertheless admitted through gritted teeth :

"I'm angry at myself. There, are you happy?"

"Ecstatic. Not. It doesn't tell me anything. What about?"

Lotor folded down on the shore like a falling card castle.

"For not having enough courage to accomplish what I must," he whispered sadly.

The change in attitude was so sudden and complete, that Lance sensed he should keep silent and allow the drule to gather himself. It took a while, Lotor staring out at the moonlight scales' slow dance on the lake's surface. He let out a shaky sigh.

"I would have needed to talk to one of you eventually. I cravenly put it off. You know..."

He paused, swallowing painfully and taking a deep breath.

"...That I love her beyond reason."

There was no need to say who. He fell silent, lowering his head.

"...And?" Prodded Lance softly.

"...And that I can't... I can't..."

He turned toward Lance, teeth bared.

"I can't! If I were to take off this robe, human, even you, who has seen destruction from the inside, would oscillate between disgust and horror. I still do, myself, and its been years. I'm ruined, powerless... I've become so pathetic as to never be able to grant her happiness."

"Besides," he continued, passing his artificial hand in the sand, "She does not love me."

He closed it in a tight fist.

"She loves HIM!" He growled furiously.

Lance was shocked to see a moonlit tear tracking Lotor's face.

"She being so careful around me," he continued in disgust. "She tried to spare my poor little mechanically regulated heart. Me, her enemy, her tormentor, and she is still so kind... She is so pure, untainted. Here I was, conquering worlds, never caring for all was terror and exploitation. Take or be taken. And then, I see her and I see perfection, unmarred by the war that took all from her. Is it any wonder I adore her like a goddess? She wishes to spare me harm, but its obvious who she loves anyway, is it not, red boy?"

Lance shrugged. "We all know, except for Keith himself."

"That human is so oblivious it's a wonder I never could beat him," Lotor said through his teeth. "It must be his incomprehensible devotion to duty, something so alien to me I kept underestimating him. Still do. I guess I detest him so because in his own revolting way, he is just as pure as she is."

Lotor resumed his careful study of the sand, carefully fingering swirls in it.

"It's torture, pilot, seeing him hover, throwing adoring, sad looks when he think nobody's looking. Seeing him silent, never making a move. She is so close, just to look at her is like having walked for days in a desert, and finally being close to a river, yet not be allowed to drink a single drop! And HIM, he's standing RIGHT besides her, she loves him, and he does NOTHING! I want to strangle him!" He growled, fangs bared.

"Well, truth be told," Lance conceded, "sometimes, so do I."

Lotor looked at him, flabbergasted.

"Oh, don't give me those goggle eyes, Campanule. I too had a thing for Allura at a point. I could see it would lead me nowhere, what with Keith being a perfect guy for her, so I never said anything. Besides, I don't think that traipsing the galaxy and haunting places like V'thaï would have appealed to her that much."

"So you understand. I would let that idiot continue to be so ridiculously self effacing, and laugh at him, but the Nikolaï incident got me thinking. You probably know how royals are stuck and bound to their heritage."

"The very thing that keeps Keith silent. He's noble by heart, not by pedigree. It makes all the difference here in Aris. They would never approve of him and he knows it."

"What does it matter? She loves him. Is Allura ruler or not?"

"Its not Doom here, campanule. She can't go against the laws of her own monarchy. If she could, you and I wouldn't have fought this stupid duel. Good thing you were pretty bad back then."

Lotor didn't take offence: it was the absolute truth.

"Can't the idiot see this has the potential to completely ruin her life? Nikolaï turned out to be a worse villain then I, but what if he hadn't been? Allura would have been hard put to find a reason to reject him and still maintain political credibility. What if another would-be suitor used your obsolete laws to bind the princess? Its just a matter of who will think of it first, pilot."

Lotor returned to his silent brooding, again seeming to gather his strength. At last, he sighed like a man resigned to his fate.

"Tell him, pilot."

"What exactly?" Asked Lance, not unkindly.

"That I give up this silly, unsaid race. That I give her the only thing she asked of me, all the while granting me a safe haven she can't believe I truly deserve. I give her the right to choose her companion for herself. Tell him he is an imbecile for not clearly staking his claim. I can't speak civilly to that self righteous, blind..." Lotor was nearly strangling in rage. "I'd make my point with a nice slash," Lotor snarled, flexing his clawed fingers menacingly. He finally let fall :

"Tell him..."

With that, Lotor folded on himself, resolutely turned to the lake so the pilot couldn't see how it cost him to finally say this. His throat was in fire, and if he said another word he would collapse in tears, he knew. He closed his eyes so hard it hurt. He heard the pilot sigh.

"I'll talk to him. I can't say it'll work, He is pretty strung up on heritage and bloodlines. But I'll try. I hate to admit it, but seeing you turn your back to the river to face the desert again... has to be one of the bravest things I've ever seen."

Lotor lowered his head. Lance rose, thinking they should begin their way back, but he allowed the drule a moment to recompose himself. On the surface, scales of moonlight reflected. How strange that some of those reflexions were green... wait a minute. Green?

He shot toward the prince as a jet of sick green light shot from the lake toward him. Lance was by his side instantly, but the light didn't retreat as usual. Instead, it was joined by others, and the multicolored Opponents formed an incandescent ball around them both, trying to approach. The drule simply fell on his shoulder, where Lance unconsciously cradled him, his sworn enemy. He could hear their whispers, exuding such evil he was seized with horror.

*Let go of him, Angry One, you know how you hate him... give him to us and your reward shall be infinite*

Lance cried vulgarities to the things.

*You shall regret, Angry One, you shall be ours as well*

It seemed hours to Lance, the spirits calling to his anger, making it an unsupportable burden. His only desire was to lash out, and the minuscule part of him that stayed sane was locked in combat to keep a fragile hold on his self. Just as he thought they would overpower him, that he would go insane, they vanished so suddenly it left him nauseous. He saw the thin strip of the morning light winding through the branches. The lake was now tinted pink by the dawn of a new day.

He was shaking hard enough to generate a small earthquake, he was covered in sweat and, to his horror, he saw he had an armful of drule, holding him so tight as to smother him. He thought perhaps he had, he was so immobile. He let go of his grip and turned the limp head to see the golden eyes opened to unresponsive slits.

Getting shakily to his feet, he pulled the drule along and began the painful trek to the castle.. Lotor leaned heavily on him all the way, in a confused, silent daze.

Lance was beyond exhausted when he finally guided the drule to fall on the bed. He arranged Lotor's limbs, as he couldn't seem to be bothered to move much. He went so far as to remove his boots, covered him in a blanket and finally flopped gratefully on the drule's cushioned chair. He was chilled to the bone and frightened out of his wits. He wanted nothing more then human company right now. He reached to the communicator, thinking on who he should call. Someone calm, level headed. Hunk.

***** ***** *****

At this rosy hour, Hunk was blissfully sleeping, a contented smile on his face. When his communicator started to make a ungraceful noise, he told himself anybody who called at such an ungodly hour should and would be ignored. He let it bleep all its decibels, the caller would surely give up before he would be bothered to rise... But no, he was not to be granted peace. Sighing, he answered.

"Hunk?" Came a voice Hunk barely recognized as Lance's. He sounded... frightened? Now that was a novelty. Instantly wide awake, Hunk asked:

"Where are you?"

"Guard duty. The suite."

"I'm on my way."


	23. Kitchen Gossip

**Kitchen Gossip**

Lotor was motionless on his bed, half mast eyes staring at emptiness.

Fiery, vivacious Lance was ensconced in the cushioned chair, a shadow of himself. Tremors shook his wiry frame, his brown hair was plastered to his face... And were those salty tear tracks? Hunk Immediately crouched in front of him and covered his hands with his own. His warmth was welcomed by a slight relaxing of Lance's cold fingers.

"Talk to me, Lance."

"We were attacked."

"Opponents?" Guessed Hunk. It was the only thing he thought that could get to Lance so profoundly. "You saw them?"

"From within."

"S***! So Lotor wasn't exaggerating."

"Hell no!" Lance cried with a sudden shiver. "I barely made it out with my own personality. The sun chased them. Hunk," he continued earnestly, "they would have won... if they had a bit more time... It was horrible."

He looked at Hunk at last, locking his watery eyes on the other's. He had been right to call Hunk. He could tell the entire thing and the yellow Lion pilot wouldn't judge him.

"Before the attack," Lance continued, "Lotor... he did something amazing..."

And he proceeded to report his nightmarish guard duty.

The Yellow Lion pilot settled more comfortably and listened patiently, encouraging Lance by nods and gentle prodding.

When he finally had all the facts, Hunk remained thoughtful a few minutes, and then rose to his feet.

"The spirits never attacked one of us before. They are getting stronger. We should meet to discuss this."

Hunk checked on the drule. He appeared oblivious, but physically unharmed. He turned back to his companion.

"But first, Lance, you need to take good care of yourself. I'll finish your shift, since I'm awake anyway. Go take a hot shower, eat something warm and take a nap. I'll see to Lotor and call the others when the hour is a bit more decent. Also, as soon as you are up to it, you should have that little private talk with Keith. I too am a bit fed up by their tragic tiptoeing around each other."

Lance threw his first, pale smile of this day.

"Keith missing the morning practice and hearing things he doesn't want to... it's a suicide mission. He'll want to tear me apart. Will you promise to pick up the pieces afterwards?"

"I'll even put you back together," Hunk answered, "it so happens I'm wicked good at it... But just in case, enlist Pidge. He can run circles around any argument with his vise grip hold on logic."

He offered his hand to Lance, who took it to be pulled up from the chair.

"Go along now," said the Yellow Lion pilot, "You look like hell."

"You don't mind finishing my shift?"

"Naw, don't worry."

With a last grateful look, Lance went to his own room.

As always when confronted with distress, Hunk had a ready solution : the castle's staff. Not only did their breakfasts have the power to dispel dark thoughts, as Hunk had often stated, but the simple fact of having a small army of kind people willfully taking care of you warmed the heart.

The pilots had no close family. The servants knew this and took them under their wing. It was all in the details : the meticulous care with which their suites were cleaned, their pillows fluffed, the little knickknacks dusted to perfection, and the careful respect of their clutter and scattered papers.

Servants where everywhere. They took care of everything, and received almost no acknowledgement. They were as invisible as omnipresent. It had its advantages : he who emptied the trash cans knew many secrets. This other, removing the ashes in a fireplace, found the remnants of a letter that retained its fragile shape and was still legible before it crumbled at the slightest contact. The servants knew they could go to certain persons to relay such accidental intelligence. Hunk, Marnott and his friends would take them seriously.

They cared for Hunk especially. The big man had what precious few of their charges did : respect. Hunk didn't believe in hierarchy. He understood systems, how it has to work, the necessity of leaders, but considered the roles of everyone as equally important, and it showed in his attitude. And they loved him for it. You had to have been the one to wipe the door knobs to realise that staving contamination is a primordial function. Hunk treated them as equals and often commented on how their flawless work made Allura's rule and their defence of the planet possible.

They appreciated this, and it gave him the privilege of their affection, a non negligible power.

If he sicced them on Lance, he knew they would spoil the lone wolf silly. Hunk figured he could really use the pampering.

He called the kitchen.

"Lance had kind of a bad nights, gents. He's taking a shower in his rooms and it'd be nice if he had something heart warming afterwards."

"Hot chocolate with breakfast?"

"Perfect. Oh, and if you'd be so kind as to bring me something later on, and include something for our blue guest. He also needs a pick-me-up. Could we bother you for something drulean?"

"No problem, Mister Hunk, we'll see too it."

"You're pearls," Hunk beamed. "You know that right?"

He ended the communication and settled in the chair.

"Thank you." Came a soft whisper.

Hunk turned toward the only other occupant of the room. Lotor's eyes showed a bit more life.

"Awake?"

"Unfortunately."

"Lance told me. That was a brave thing you did," Hunk said simply.

"Don't remind me," Lotor said, burying his head in his pillow.

"Oh, I think I should. You lost something precious. But you also gained something."

"What do you mean?" Lotor asked, uncomprehending.

"You just made a couple hundreds of friends..."

***** ***** *****

It was a simple matter for the Head Cook to call friends at the drule enclave to ask what drules, doomites in particular, used as comfort food. Abundantly sweetened hot milk with spices, warmed tartare with confit d'oranges, mh? She could handle that.

Of course it started a wave of curiosity in the village... Why would the castle's human cook need to comfort the only drule in there? They itched in curiosity.

They were not alone...

"Master Lance was overjoyed to receive breakfast," said a young maid, bringing back her empty cart. "He was getting out of the shower with just a towel on!"

"Ohhh, you have all the luck!" Gushed another, starry eyed. "And is the merchandise any good?"

"Groowl! Nice six pack, stomach flat as a board and looking as hard as one too!"

"Stop such talk!" Admonished the Head Cook, but she was smiling wickedly. "And wipe the drool off your face!"

"So," began the gushy one, ignoring the order, "What do you think is happening?"

"I don't know," said the first maid, "But I think they were attacked. Master Lance was pale as a sheet, and the drule, well, he was crushed. He couldn't eat anything. He did take the milk though. Master Hunk was very commiserate to him."

"It was master Lance's guard shift last night. Something must have happened then..."

One of the night patrol men, who was happily rummaging through the gigantic pantry informed them.

"I saw them both coming back from the forest at dawn. The drule was all weird, master Lance supported him, and he looked to be in pretty bad shape himself."

"I think those evil spirits got to them." Said the gushy one, wide eyed. "You know, the horrible things that stopped Henry at the prison? He's still scared stiff."

"Poor Master Lance," said the other. "When he took his plate, I saw it trembling. Must have been pretty awful..."

"Poor Wolf. Let's make Thai food tonight, it's master Lance's favourite," crooned the Head Cook. "He always licks his plate clean when its Thai."

She began to rummage through her cookbooks. The others continued their banter for a while. Then a manservant entered grandly, visibly exited.

"Do you know the last?" He announced. "Master Pidge requested a private conference room. Master Lance joined them, _dragging_ Commander Kogana inside! And they've been closeted in since!"

They all commented at once, losing themselves in their favourite activity : sleuthing. They worried at the slightest bit of information until they had a dozen plausible or extravagant theories.

Some included Lance almost going insane in a spirit attack (they would remake his bed with warmer bedding, poor Wolf), and the commander being subjected to a mutiny.

Lotor having impressed Hunk enough to be included in his list of respected persons sprouted an array of hypothesises. They couldn't pinpoint one in particular, but no matter. If master Hunk wanted them to take extra good care of the alien, then surely he had passed the hardest test.

They put extra care in those little drule pastries Cook had found recipes for in the intergalactic net. They also ordered a special shampoo supposed to enhance white hair, and a nail kit especially made to trim and keep the drule's rather frightening claws nice and neat.

So it was that Lotor made a couple hundred of friends.

***** ***** *****

Short, I know.

Confit d'orange, if you wonder, is a syrupy concoction of candied orange peels, often eaten with potted meats. Steak tartare is seasoned raw meat. It struck me as funny that drules would use warmed tartare as a comfort food! Warm like a fresh kill, Eeewww! ;-) For the milk, serpents like milk, I think. Drules always seemed a bit reptilian to me. Lance loving Thai food is pure projection.

You may guess that the next chapter has Keith, poor guy! ^_^

Real Life is rearing its head, I got a lot of stuff coming. It'll take a little while. I can't write at all when I decide to, just when the inspiration takes over, and it'll be especially hard to squeeze out such an important chapter! Please be patient.

Its been pointed out, in a quite elegant, respectful manner, that I make mistakes. There is no threatening wounds on my pride, everything she pointed out is _true_ and _constructive_. And that is perfectly welcome and all right. I'll try to improve, but I have to admit I'm a bit lazy, I have a fragile ego, and I'm a little scared of betas, too.

Just so you know, the grammar correction tool I use is Word Perfect's. I correct what it detects. The first few chapters were not corrected. Sorry if I miss things, I don't mean to, really. For the convoluted phrasing, what can I say... its my form of embroidery. Sorry about that also.

I didn't mean for Rose to be a Mary Sue, but at least, she's my Mary Sue. Don't worry, she wont be suddenly revealed to be a powerful magician, telekinetic, or the secret daughter of either a villain or hero! But the plot isn't going to dispel the Mary Sue impression I'm afraid. Oh well. I honestly never thought of that when she appeared in the story. She stays. Cute imps are common in stories, and I like them. She's a key person in events, even if she is not the main character.


	24. A Mutiny and a Declaration

Apologies, all of you... following the very complete, useful and excellent review from Kristina Marie **(thank you!),** I did my Mea Culpa and reviewed and corrected the first eight chapters, both with the spell check and Grammatik.

I didn't find the place I wrote ZarKon instead of Zarcon, though. I'll continue my sifting of the other chapters after the concert. (I just joined a choir, the concert is December 7) Learning all those alti parts is a challenge!

I often forget to spell-check author notes. My fault, too. *sigh...*

**A ****Mutiny and a Declaration**

A predatory, aggressive attitude he could expect from Lance: he had to deal with it all the time. But Pidge? Keith fidgeted but tried to look casual and assured as he took his seat at the head of the oval conference table. He liked this room. The outside wall was curved, with a high, thin horizontal window that ran its entire length. The sun spilled its golden light inside, comforting the commander as he faced the determined duo of pilots.

"Well, what is so important you got me to cancel the morning training session?"

"First things first," Lance began. "I was on guard shift tonight. The campanule and I went to the forest for reasons I'll explain later, but to make it short, we were attacked, and this time, I was included. I felt the Opponents."

Keith started to get to his feet, worried.

"Are you ok?"

"Barely." But Lance just signed to him to remain seated.

"They are getting stronger, Keith," reasoned Pidge. "It's just a matter of time before they all find hosts."

"If they haven't already," conceded Keith. "How does one fight this? I never battled the incorporeal before, we have no idea how to act. We need to find experts on this."

Keith started pacing the conference room.

"We'll have to research the subject. We could begin with Coran. He knows the archives, and he knew Alfor. The King built Voltron, and was told about the Opponents. Maybe he left notes or something. And we..."

"Yeah yeah," Lance interrupted. "We can discuss this in a team meeting, but that isn't the main reason we brought you here."

Pidge and Lance got predatory looks again. They looked at each other and grinned. Pidge began:

"Don't bother trying to get out of this, Keith. I programmed the door shut. I'm the only one who knows the sequence."

Keith swallowed in sudden apprehension. 'Why do I have this feeling I'm not going to like this?'

***** ***** *****

Some hours later, Allura was in the castle control room discussing with Coran when the call came. On the tiny screen of her communicator she could see the Commander looking very strange. He asked that she please meet with him in the garden at her earliest convenience.

"I'm coming right away. Allura out."

***** ***** *****

Keith was wringing his hands nervously. Sitting ramrod straight in one of the white chairs that dotted the garden, he kept his eyes on the entrance. Couldn't she have been in a meeting? He had never been this nervous. This was never going to work. Even if she returned his affection, she was bound by law to marry within the nobility.

And the sad truth was that even if he had been knighted on several planets and had enough medals to fill a small trunk, he was still a commoner. He was barely a Sir, and from the way certain blue bloods eyed him, he might as well have been a dog. He didn't want to put her in a bad situation... but Lance and Pidge had been relentless.

The Red Lion pilot had retold all of his conversation with Lotor, leaving Keith shocked and unbelieving. Pidge had argued that sooner or later Allura would have to find some way to revoke that sort of obligation because they not only affected her, but other nobles as well. Wasn't Rose being pushed for that marriage with a Baron? If the princess tarried, daughters and sons of nobles would suffer the same fate. While Allura may not have acted only to save herself from an unhappy union, she would certainly reconsider once this argument was put forth.

"So," had argued Lance, "it all comes down to this. Do you or do you not love her?"

Oh, he had argued, forcefully and at length. But Pidge had better repartee then a computerized politician. Each time Keith found an argument, the little Baron would throw it right back at him. Pidge had pointed out that it all boiled down to the definition of nobility. Keith _was_ noble, even if he was not _a_ noble. And when Keith managed at last to counter Pidge, Lance would take over and argue him back in a neat corner.

At last, exhausted and out of excuses, he admitted that yes, he loved her. No, he didn't want her to be forced into something that would make her unhappy for life, but how could they remove those stifling old law?

That, Pidge had said, is something you'll have to work out with the princess.

So here he was, waiting fretfully in the garden, getting up, pacing a bit, just to settle down again, and start the cycle over until she appeared.

Keith had never said anything, never hinted at his love. He assumed it was one of those tragic, impossible things, and that he should move on. But it had proved impossible. The best he could do was to remain in the shadow while leaving the princess free to make her choices unhindered by his improper affections.

Allura had never seemed completely real to the commander. She was an icon, an image of perfection that just couldn't be. He kept expecting to see her vanish in wisps of smoke and find out she'd been a fantasy after all. Maybe that's why when she appeared at the gate, he thought she was a vision, and he startled badly when she asked:

"Keith, Are you all right?"

"Er... Yes, princess, or on second thought... No, not really"

"Why, are you ill? You're all red, do you want me to call a doctor?"

"No! No. I'm not ill, just horribly nervous."

He fidgeted and looked into her eyes earnestly.

"I have a confession to make."

He hesitated, and Allura tried to calm him down.

"What, you're a Baron as well?"

"It would make everything so much easier if I was." Keith whispered sadly. He lowered his gaze, contemplating her feet, not trusting himself to go on. He steeled himself.

"but first, I have to explain why now..."

Keith told Allura of Lance's eventful night.

"I never would have believed the drule had it in himself... He's right, Allura. You have to get out of this potential trap. I... do have a lot of regard for you..." He searched her eyes again. "What I mean is... Can I have the permission to court you... I know the legalese is a problem, but..."

He swallowed as he realised he was babbling. This was much harder then fighting robeasts. It split his heart painfully, and he braced himself for indignation, rejection...

"Dare I hope that?..."

Allura smiled and proceeded to shut him up by taking his face in both her hands, nudged him a bit lower, and brought her lips to his reverently. His knees gave out, and she followed his fall, savouring this unique moment as he at last responded to the kiss.

***** ***** *****

That was the hardest chapter to write. No Lotor at all! I hope Keith fans will be happy with it. Its usually guys who shut girls up by kissing them, I just flipped those circumstances. I think it would be a very Allura thing to do... And Keith is kind of repressed in expressing feelings. This was horrible for the poor guy! :-) But at least, he got a great reward for his hardest heroic effort so far!

It'll keep trickling in slowly for a while. My next written chapters are farther in the story, and I'm having trouble writing bridges to connect it properly.

For the record, I haven't conveniently forgotten the Amedan stone and Zarcon. The re-instated king is having problems of his own! Good for Aris and the guys.

Until next chapter, au revoir!


	25. Realisations and Plans

Author note:

I corrected the Zarcon-Zarkon thing.

Well, Keith's 'secret' is out, but not in the open yet. The two lovebirds will be able to steal a few moments together, but they have to keep it hidden, at least for now.

I must explain who or what Kolak is, he, it, is mentioned in this chapter. He's a sentient machine that the V force met in the V3D show. He thinks everyone should be converted to a machine. A bit like the Borg, say, except he has no organic parts, and he appears quite alone in the series, even though I seem to remember he's part of a race of those sentient machines. He almost succeeded in transforming all the team and integrate them in his massive ship. A bad, bad guy. Thing. Whatever.

In another episode they also met mechanical, sentient dragons that can actually join in a gigantic machine. You see where this is going? Enjoy!

***** ***** *****

**Realisations and planning**

In the following days Allura and Keith stole moments alone and discreetly discussed the best approach to sell the advantages of getting rid of certain archaic laws to the council. Allura knew several would agree, but a small and stubborn clutch of snobbish nobles were clinging to these laws to ensure they would keep both their privileges and the right to control the breeding, to put it crudely.

Put that way, even Nanny had to admit it didn't sound very civilized. Allura had chosen to tell her, provided she would keep this to herself. After the Nikolai incident, Nanny had drastically changed her view on eligibility.

Trying to figure out how to convince the hard headed lot gave the poor woman something to think about. Nanny had been devastated when the count had demanded she return Rose in her true home. She had not seen her for days, and even if Rose sent notes regularly, the joyous atmosphere of Nanny's little nook in the castle had become gloomy and silent.

In parallel, the team met about the new strength of the Opponents. Lotor had expressed it would be too painful to be near the princess at this point, so he waited out such meetings in the Temple of the Lions, where the Opponents could not manifest themselves.

***** ***** *****

Servants had installed a comfortable lounge chair not too far from the statue of the Lions. Lotor was sitting on its edge, tense, toying with the book Hunk had lent him.

He was enjoying his first moments of solitude for weeks. It was a welcome relief. Ever since he announced he wouldn't pursue Allura anymore, he'd been on the verge of a humiliating emotional collapse. He even consented to those happy pills Haussman kept insisting he needed.

Here he could let the tears fall, and no witnesses meant a little less pain. He fervently hoped Hagar wasn't spying on him when he acted so weak. He could just envision Zarkon mocking his bleeding heart, guffawing in front of the witch's scrying basin. His father always found such feelings so pathetic and hilarious.

Well, no matter how powerful Hagar was, she certainly couldn't see him in the temple, so he didn't feel self conscious at all when at last, he let the book fall, buried his face in his hands and cried. His harsh sobs echoed in the empty room.

***** ***** *****

The V team was in the conference room, leaning on various items. Only Pidge paced a hole in the beige carpet. He had given a lot of thought to the Opponents, and he didn't like his conclusions at all. So he briefed the others on his findings.

"Guys, I think we are in deep s**t. I can't tell exactly when it will hit the fan, but we'd better be ready by then."

"Ready how?" Asked Keith, certain the Green Lion pilot had a sound theory.

"Voltron is without equal, even if the witch divided him in five parts. But remember what we were told by the spirits: the Opponents will give to their chosen the _'same knowledge'_ the original Voltron designer, Alfor, had."

"If they do," he continued, "then he or she will be able to build a machine that will be at least the equal of ours."

The pilots widened their eyes in realisation and horror. Pidge continued.

"They haven't grabbed Lotor, and I understand he's the designer they want, but since he's protected, what if they just give up to seek another one?"

"I don't think such mecha geniuses come a dime a dozen, though," remarked Lance.

"We know at least one that is capable of it. A sentient machine. We met him: Kolak the Hunter. He, or It, hails from another dimension, but it likes to find new victims here. And if the Opponents discover Kolak's potential, I say again: We. Are. In. Deep. S**t."

"Kolak thinks machines are superior beings," mused the princess. "I can readily imagine him, pardon, 'It', completely taken with the idea of building such a superior one."

Ever the strategist, Keith put in:

"He would have a definite advantage. He doesn't care at all for living things. We are good pilots, but we have something to protect, which is much harder then just destructing. They would have the advantage of total ruthlessness. And he will not be hopelessly in love with one of us."

"It doesn't end there, unfortunately," Pidge continued. "Remember those mechanical dragons we fought a while ago? We barely got out of this one. If such machines were seized, Kolak could modify them and they would fit nicely as bodies for the Opponents, don't you think?"

They paled. Those dragons were sentient, and ferociously defended their territory. They probably would never accept to bow to the spirits, but what if they were overpowered?

"You obviously concocted a plan, Pidge." Said Keith. "What do you suggest?"

"You'd better sit for this one, guys." Pidge said, sighing deeply. The others sat and waited. Hunk nodded, and Pidge exposed his jaw-dropping idea.

When he was finished, Keith declared that it would be a dangerous leap of faith.

"He wouldn't be alone, Keith," offered Pidge. "I would be the programmer, and Hunk would build. We know what we are doing and we can't be fooled in our respective domains."

"On that scale," stated Allura, "it becomes a matter of planetary defence, and that is my department. It's imperative we keep one step ahead of them. I agree with this."

They argued a bit, but in the end even the commander decided it was the best course of action.

***** ***** *****

What he wouldn't give for a box of tissues just now, though Lotor wryly. He was curled on the lounge chair, trying to relax enough to sleep, another thing that became a struggle of late. He was surprised to hear the steps of someone coming in the temple. Surely, the meeting wasn't over already? Or had he cried for hours?

"My Prince?"

Lotor hid his face in his hands again. Master Kovak really had a knack to appear when he was embarrassingly weak.

"Yes, Master?"

"The commander thought it would be just that I should know what happened."

"Great," groused Lotor. "So the entire camp knows?"

"No, only a few select of our people."

Kovak came closer and Lotor dragged himself to a seated position. He saw his master was carrying robes.

"These are gifts. They are freely given," the khiara master stated, as if he was making a ritual statement.

Lotor sighed. The refugee often gave him little gifts to 'drulify' his suite. He had a couple of statuettes, some engravings, and dozens of earrings. But those robes were something else entirely. They were magnificent. He had never seen such intricate craftsmanship, even on his father's ceremonial robes. It would deeply shame the artists if he refused them, so he never even considered doing so.

"Thank their makers for me, please. They are stunning. Not even father has something like this."

"And you can be sure that he never will," said Kovak a bit mysteriously.

The master sat beside his pupil and pulled Lotor in his arms. The ex prince stiffened, but accepted the strangely dignified embrace. Such gestures were rare among drule, and highly significant.

"I honestly never thought Zarkon's son would have such a capacity for love and honour, so great he is able to put either in front of his own needs and wants. I'm honoured and proud to know you and call you my Prince."

"Thank you, master."

The Khiaran master let go and smiled kindly.

"I take it you won't stop your lessons?" Kovak inquired, rising and sounding normal again.

"I need all the distraction I can get. As you can see, I'm miserable. That insufferable red pilot said it all when he stated that sometimes, doing the right thing just s*cks."

Kovak chuckled. "When was that?"

"Yesterday. I remarked that Allura seemed unduly sad, and I asked him if I had done the right thing by their creeds."

"Both their creeds and ours, my Prince. Right on both."

Kovak left, Lotor watching his graceful walk out of the temple. He thought that it was strange that the temple accepted drules in its bosom without even a spiritual hiccup. He sighed. He should have asked for that box of tissues.

Instead, he examined the robes, and was still fingering the exquisite material, the vivid colors that were favored of certain tribes, and following the intricate, complicated decorative designs when Keith appeared.

"We would like you to come with us at the next meeting," stated the commander. "We have something we'd like to discuss with you."

"Would Allura be there? Because I don't think I can."

"She will meet with Coran in the meantime, maybe he knows something we don't about the Opponents. I will relay the point she wishes to bring."

"Can I ask for something in exchange?"

Keith was immediately suspicious.

"I only want to visit the drule enclave, commander. They've been showering me with gifts and the last one is so stunning I'd like to thank the maker in person."

"I see no harm in that. Is it those dresses?"

Lotor shrugged, a bit self deprecating.

"Robes, human. Dress has a definite female ring to it. Yes, those are Royal robes. They surpass anything I have seen so far, and with father being so vain, I thought I had seen the best craftsmanship the empire had to offer. These are remarkable. They must have taken weeks to make."

"All right, but I will accompany you."

"Whatever. So." Lotor gathered his courage. "Did you declare yourself?"

"I did."

"And I was right, wasn't I?"

Keith's cheeks quickly became a delicate shade of pink.

"Mark my words, pilot. If you ever harm would it be a single hair on her head, I will cut yours."

"If I ever harm her, Lotor, I will let you."

"Mmf. Is she happy?"

"I hope so. I think so, since she's, er... taking initiatives."

"You are fortunate beyond belief," Lotor simply stated, trembling.

"I know." Keith knew better then to push the point so he simply left the Temple, Lotor following sullenly.

They went up a level to meet the other pilots in the kitchen for a quick lunch. The meeting would continue later. They walked in awkward silence, Lotor keeping his eyes on the floor. When he paused near workers to ask for a box of tissues, no less then three servants presented him one. Lotor blinked in surprise. Of late, the staff had been so full of kind attentions he didn't even know how to respond.

***** ***** *****

"You want me to WHAT?" Lotor exclaimed, completely stunned.

"We want you to help us keep one step ahead of the Opponents, and to do that, we need to upgrade Voltron while we can," Keith announced seriously. "Let's face it. Hunk says you're a genius at designing ergonomic and efficient machines. You even impressed Pidge, something I didn't think was possible."

Keith sighed. "The Lions spirits are all excited with this idea. They've been giving us giddy spells ever since Pidge brought it up." Keith blew an exasperated breath. "We feel this need to giggle insanely all the time," he groused.

"They told us that when Voltron was devided in five parts by Hagar, the lions that resulted were all they could achieve by redirecting the magic to create something they had to design on the spur of the moment. They would like you to try to redesign the Lions, and if the new bodies please them, they'll have no problems transfering. It would also give us back up machines, a definite strategic advantage."

"You overestimate me, humans. I can design, but there is a far cry between the conception and realisation. I can't build as well. Even the butterflies took me a while. It's a special talent that I admit I don't have. It takes a rare, entirely different kind of patience and creativity. When following a plan, you come across a myriad of snags, like working around unexpected material restraints..."

"That's where I come in," Hunk cut in. "I'm not much of a designer, but give me a plan, schematics, and I can build just about anything."

Hunk was more excited then they'd ever seen him.

"Can you imagine?" He asked, grinning like a loon, "actually building Lions?"

Lotor crossed his arms, unconvinced. "And I can't program myself out a paper bag."

"I'd be in charge of that," said Pidge. "I can program anything Hunk builds. Leave all the circuitry and actual material constraints to Hunk, and the programming to me."

"So it's a team effort," Lotor stated. "You do realise I'm not a team person."

"That has got to be the understatement of the year," threw in Lance.

"Actually that won't be much of a problem," said Keith. "Most of these tasks are separate."

Crazy schematics were already flying in the drule's head. He had to admit such a endeavour was an extraordinary challenge. It might put his mind off... He crushed that thought in its tracks.

"I need a couple of terminals."

Lotor began to list software and an entire lab set-up.

The commander just brought his comments and objections, but they agreed with surprisingly few problems.

"The system would be closed," Keith demanded. "No access to the net for obvious security reasons."

"Agreed, hacking can go both ways. I know at least that much. And if there is one thing we can agree on, it's that we don't want that technology in the hands of Kolak... or Zarkon."

Keith nodded.

"Pidge, you're in charge of the computer setup. Hunk, you'll need a lot of material, how do you plan to get it without arising curiosity?"

Hunk Shrugged.

"And that's where _I _come in," announced Lance. "I know a couple of less then honest critters who can find and secretly deliver enough restricted material to build an army in a hurry."

"Smugglers?" Keith asked, scandalized. "Don't tell me the Lost Net harbors smugglers..."

Lance smirked.

"Smugglers, hackers, thieves, cutthroats... Dishonest fellows all. But they have a common goal: preventing the monopolization of power. It's bad for business, for ordinary citizens and for economics in general. It's something many farmers, servants and crooks agree on."

He put his feet on the table.

"The Lost Net answers to no government," he continued. "It has people everywhere. So you need a few tons of restricted material for the Greater Good? No problemo."

"I don't want to know, Lance," said Keith with a scold. "Just do it and don't get caught."

"As if!" Lance huffed. "Give me a week."

"Provided we can get Sven to replace you. We can't risk being short of one pilot even if things seem quiet."

"Ok. But I can already make a few inquiries." Lance sauntered away to rummage in his mysterious reseau.

"Allura wants us to point out, in absentia, that she needs to figure a way to finance this without putting the treasury up front. It'd be too obvious."

"That's also my part," giggled Pidge, a wicked smile playing on his elfin features. "Remember how I hacked into Zarkon's financial card castle?"

Lotor lifted his eyes on him. The little Baron looked devious.

"I now hold all the cards," announced Pidge. "I can siphon a little here, a bit there, with none the wiser."

Lotor smirked for the first time since the lake event.

"Are you saying that dear father will actually _finance _the upgrading of Voltron!?"

Pidge just grinned. The pilots chuckled. Lotor burst in helpless laughing.

"Oh," he managed at last, tear-eyed and still coughing up laughter, "this is too precious!"

***** ***** *****

Well, another chapter. I thought the idea of Zarkon paying for this hilarious. ^_^

The comment Lotor has on not being able to hack himself out of a paper bag comes from another fic, but I can't remember which. So I humbly state I didn't think of it first, I can't claim credit for this one.

Feed the author please! Push the review button!


	26. Dogs, a cat and magic

**Dogs, a cat and magic**

Keith was especially vigilant as he and Hunk accompanied Lotor to the drule village. The Black Lion knew they still considered him a prince; it was Zarkon they named without any frills or titles. Here on Aris, though, the refugees had remained pacific and Keith didn't anticipate any problem.

Besides, it would be a good occasion to gauge their attitude regarding the demoted prince.

Lotor cut an impressive figure in one of the royal robes. He wore the most subdued, a deep purple and blue one that had a discreet white spidery motif alongside the sleeves. The ingenious overlapping of light silk panels flowed around the drule's thin frame like a caress. It looked very soft and comfortable.

The ex prince felt self conscious and a bit apprehensive. It was the first time he would be in the presence of his peers since their defeat at the hands of Galaxy Garrison.

In truth, he was ashamed. The empire was supposed to bring prosperity and power, and except for the few Kingdoms that withdrew from the conflict, Doomites and a number of other kingdoms had fought till the bitter end. Now, they were vanquished, something Drules hated above all.

If the enclave chose to have him answer for all the absent leaders, there wasn't much he could do about it.

His Father had never put much effort in his relations with the other Drule Kingdoms. After the defeat, he poured out all of his energy to infiltrate Galaxy Garrison's government by manipulating Amalgamus, and worm his way in whatever corruption there was to be found. Zarkon had changed tactics and tried to parasite Garrison from the very core.

In those years, Zarkon never meddled in Garrison's treatment of refugees and prisoners. In Lotor's opinion, it was a miscalculation on his father's part. The drules were bound to consider this treason, at least until the deception was revealed. The truth of the matter came to be known, but Lotor didn't think it would change their opinion: Zarkon had shown a total indifference to the standing Drule Kingdoms, refugees and war prisoners alike.

And that included himself, who had languished in a cell for years, until it was decided he was needed again.

Zarkon's talent for gathering support was nothing short of stupendous. It boggled Lotor's mind that he still had followers. He probably owed this to the fact he mastered the art of exploiting many species' penchant for riches and power. He had corrupt moles just about everywhere.

Lotor sighed. He might as well stop this mental thread, and think of something else.

Like how to upgrade the most extraordinary machine ever built.

Voltron's abilities were legendary, but Lotor was certain that the mecha truly unique superiority was the binding of the pilots to the machine through the five spirits. But the range of physical moves the gigantic robot could make was limited by its mechanical nature. Lotor tried to envision the mecha moving more naturally, say, like his own artificial limbs... And that started and entirely new way to ponder the problem.

Why not start with something organic?

'I need a cat,' he thought.

Deeply distracted, Lotor was startled to find himself inside the enclave, dozens of drules stopping in their tracks to stare at him.

Drules prefer not to show weakness. This had been deeply ingrained into his behaviour, so he automatically lifted his chin proudly to meet their gaze.

A surprising number of dogs wandered to the trio. It seemed every mangy mutt and their cousins found safe haven in the drule village. They joyously greeted the newcomers, all wagging tails and toothy smiles as they swamped the two humans and the ex-prince.

Lotor didn't have any experience with pets; the only 'domestic' animal he'd ever met on a daily basis was the infamous Coba. Nevertheless, he imitated Hunk, scratching behind the ears of an enormous mix breed.

The horrible beast was ugly, but had such an amiable grin that one couldn't help but find the monster endearing. The dog growled in pleasure and flopped at Lotor's feet, its four paws pedalling in the air and his tongue lolling out comically in an attempt to gather more affection. Keith and Hunk chuckled and even Lotor snorted in amusement.

At this scene, the drules all relaxed considerably and a few came closer. They bowed, but did not grovel, which pleased the Commander.

Lotor answered with a slight salute.

"I would like to meet the maker of these," asked Lotor without preambles. A mousy drule came forward.

"Certainly, my Prince, if you will follow me..."

They traversed the village and entered one of the barracks. After a few drab corridors, they came to an unadorned door.

"In here, my prince."

The drule retired without knocking, so Lotor himself rapped firmly on the door. It opened slowly, but they couldn't see anyone. Keith kept his hand on his lazon gun, just in case, and the three entered cautiously, taking in the little flat.

Every available surface was painted black, decorated with a myriad of multicolored sigils and symbols. The furniture was heavily cushioned, and several squares of fabric covered the floor, overlapping each other to form a continuous, bumpy mat.

Seated cross legged on an elevated pile of these, a bizarre looking drule smiled benignly at them. Keith was reminded of a dark, pointed eared Buddha, one with insane robes not unlike those Lotor was offered, but in a riot of clashing colours. The effect on the rotund figure of the alien was almost comical, but he nevertheless projected an aura of authority.

The small drule was bald as a marble, dark as night, and round like a cherub. His weird lambent eyes shone softly.

Lotor took it all in a glance, but he stared, captivated, at the being currently purring on the drule's lap: a drulean cat.

They jumped when the drule spoke: his low-pitched voice was completely at odds with his appearance.

"So," he began. "You are Zarkon's infamous son."

He caressed his pet which looked disturbingly like Haggar's cat, except it was jet black. He had the same luminous, golden eyes, and seemed much more sedate then Coba.

Ever interested in animals, Hunk asked:

"Doesn't your cat have problems with all the dogs running around in the village?"

"Not at all," boomed the drule's rumbling voice. "He's extremely lazy, and not perceived as a threat. My name is Barok, by the way, and the cat is Soval."

This broke the initial awkwardness.

"I came to personally thank you for these," said Lotor, fingering one of the silky panels of his robes.

"You wear them well, Prince." The cat was squirming. "All right, Soval, go see him."

The cat stretched and ambled sinuously toward Lotor, and in a startling jump, perched on his left shoulder where it proceeded to lick a paw.

"Soval likes you!" Exclaimed Barok. "Unprecedented!" He smiled. "Well, I'm not all that surprised. I made these robes for you when I learned of your sacrifice."

"Sacrifice?" Questioned Lotor.

"You renounced the one you dearly love to insure her happiness, did you not? That takes spine."

Lotor gaped. "Surely, you couldn't make this in days?"

"Of course I could."

The drule lifted a pudgy finger, and suddenly hundreds of gossamer threads lifted from the fabric strewn on the floor and started to weave themselves. The stupefied humans drew their gun and aimed at the drule out of pure reflex.

"You're a sorcerer," stated Lotor.

Barok didn't seem to register the weapons. He smiled ruefully.

"Indeed. We haven't revealed ourselves to one of your ilk for quite a while, haven't we? You, Prince Lotor, have managed to impress us. A true heart didn't seem to exist in Doom's court. But you proved to have a deeper soul then we'd assumed. That is why I decided to craft the robes, as a mark of our respect."

"Zarkon dismissed us," Barak continued, "and I assure you this is quite mutual. But now we realise you are not like him. The robes are more then just for show, prince. The symbols woven within should partly protect you from the spirits."

Keith and Hunk looked at each other and lowered their weapon. Keith shrugged. The sorcerer could easily have shrouded them in the threads to suffocate them, but the drule just didn't seem threatening.

The sorcerer rose, balancing his bulk with some difficulty.

"And if you will allow it, Prince, I would like to extend the protection by reinforcing the sigils Kovak painted on you."

Lotor looked at the Commander as if asking permission. Keith nodded, but asked:

"What would this magic entail?"

"Just integrate the sigils to his soul, like a spiritual tattoo, if you will."

Keith reasoned that the sorcerer, being so powerful, could have wrecked havoc on Aris. Instead, he had remained hidden, peacefully weaving robes for his peers. Keith had no doubt where the villagers' colourful garments came from one source only. He acquiesced.

Lotor shrugged. "Anything that can help..."

"I must warn you that the process is a bit unsettling, though," said Barok.

"If it's anything like the witch's magic, I'd be surprised if it wasn't," commented Lotor.

"How's the traitor, anyway?" Asked Barok with curiosity.

"Last I saw her," reported Lotor, "She was struggling with the Amadan stone. It appeared a daunting task."

"It should be. Its power and hers are totally opposed. It might kill her if she insists..."

"She'd do anything for Father, much in the same way, I suppose, I'd do anything for Allura."

Hunk shivered. "Haggar and Zarkon? Now that's a visual I did not need!" He whispered, shuddering.

"Don't worry, gold boy. It won't happen. Father just uses her."

"That is rather sad," commented Keith, feeling almost sorry for the witch.

"Both sad and dangerous." Lotor has a sudden thought. "I do wonder what happened to Coba. She was quite attached to the monster."

"That I can answer, Prince," said Barok. "Our cats and the Opponents repulse each other. The more Haggar drew on their power, the more distant he no doubt became. He probably left to bind with another witch or sorcerer."

"Bind?"

"Our cats choose us, not the other way around. I'm told earth cats also do this. Soval and I are perfectly matched, see, I'm horribly lazy myself, and I love to eat."

While he spoke, he sauntered around in the room, the flying threads pushing themselves out of his way. Keith was amazed. Such power! He was glad the jovial sorcerer didn't seem to be a maniac like that witch.

The drule uncovered a cookie platter on a low table. The cat jumped from Lotor's shoulder directly to the plate and helped himself. Barak lifted the plate, at the same time filching several cookies and eating them, then presenting the platter to Hunk, cat and all.

Hunk shrugged and took one. They were delicious. He said so, and Barak beamed. Love of food was a universal constant to some, Keith mused, smiling. Hunk had just made another friend.

A finished square of light fabric fell to the floor, joining the others.

The threads stopped weaving and returned to their own squares. Barak deposited the platter and took his cat in his arms.

"So, shall we bind those sigils?"

Lotor looked up hopefully. "Would it liberate me from trailing pilots?"

"Maybe. You'll have to test it to establish a new distance. But don't count on miles. The Opponents are powerful and in full hunt mode."

"Will it incapacitate me?"

"Maybe a few minutes, no more. Your nature should be receptive to such symbols."

"Commander?" Lotor inquired, looking at Keith hopefully. Keith was also fed up with the need to be constantly guarding the ex-prince.

"I'd have to see the process. Is that possible?"

The question was directed at Barok. The sorcerer nodded.

"You will not even feel anything. Only the prince will."

"All right, then. Hunk will wait outside."

Hunk was used to Keith's reasoning, and knew he was asked to step out in case something went wrong, so he could get the others. He didn't think it would be necessary, any guy who had such good taste for cookies was ok in his book, but he didn't comment and stepped out, doing the subtle, almost unperceivable sign to Keith that he understood. They were practising the Lost Net sign language, and it proved an invaluable asset.

Lance taught them the signs, and he had a lot of fun with it, ceaselessly fingering them outrageous comments, especially when they were in the company of important people and so couldn't burst out laughing.

When Hunk had retired, Keith turned to Lotor, and they looked in expectance at the sorcerer.

"Please lie down, Prince," offered Barok, presenting a deep sofa. Lotor did, some apprehension showing on his face. Soval came to rest on his stomach, purring as Lotor caressed him. He was grateful to the animal: if the sorcerer had affection similar to that Haggar showed to her beloved Coba, he was in no danger. Barok would not risk his precious pet.

"Let's begin."

***** ***** *****

This chapter was supposed to end farther, but I'm swamped! Between a new formation, the choir, and two snowstorms back to back, the week was exhausting. It snowed so much that my faithful snowmobile barely made it up the rural road. And just as I had succeeded in making a decent trail, a second snow storm hit and a foot of snow fell on top. *Sigh* I have to travel to the city today. I don't expect to have much more time next week. But I'm doing my best! Chapters will come. And I'm susceptible to emotional blackmail in the form of reviews!


	27. A Change of Spirits

**A change of spirits**

Keith observed the pudgy sorcerer wiggling his fingers above Lotor. The ex-prince looked mildly apprehensive and held onto the phosphorescent eyed cat, as if unconsciously asking the feline to protect him. The commander couldn't help but find the scene humorous.

He sobered instantly when ribbons of light arced from the sorcerer's fingers. It didn't feel like the Opponents, though, and Keith relaxed, belatedly realising he had just drawn his weapon again.

Lotor shot him a bizarre look, his expression a mix between resentment and gratefulness. Keith kept his gun aimed at Barok while the light hovered around the ex-prince, never quite touching, and the sigils Kovak had painted on his skin suddenly reappeared. They shone briefly and sank.

Lotor let out a small giggle, startling both the commander and himself. He shrugged.

"It tickled," he declared, smiling now.

The sorcerer lowered his arms, and Keith holstered his weapon.

"That was it?" Lotor asked, wide-eyed.

"You are very receptive... What can I say?" Said Barok apologetically. "I could have added a bit of nerve wracking..."

"Quite all right, sorcerer," Lotor interrupted. "Thank you. So does this mean the pilots and I can ditch each other?"

"To a greater distance, yes. You should at least be able not to share rooms."

Lotor let his head fall on the sofa and sighed in contentment, caressing the cat into a purring puddle. He did feel better. It was like the relief of a continuous noise suddenly stopping: pure bliss. Or like a door that had been left opened to the chilling wind was closed at last, leaving you in a warm and quiet room.

"That seemed much less complicated then Haggar's magic," Keith observed. "Doesn't it always involve rimes and crystals?"

Barok chuckled. "Our magic comes naturally and works through symbols. Hers as well. It's her augmented powers that are so capricious, for they draw on sentient sources, like the Opponents. You can tell it left a toll. Such beings do not give. They are coerced, or they sell."

Keith rapped twice sharply on the door, and Hunk came in.

"Everything went well?"

"See for yourself," said Keith, gesturing to Lotor. "He's pretty much transformed to marshmallow. Are you even mobile?" he directed the question at the reclining drule.

"Mmhm," Lotor mumbled. "In a few minutes, humans. Don't get... how does your Lance say it? Ah, yes. Your panties in a twist."

After a pleasant conversation on the several ancient drule tribes and the traditional patterns they still cherished, several cookies and a promise to help if they ever needed other formal wear, Barok, Keith and Hunk finally persuaded Lotor to leave the sofa. He looked more relaxed then they'd ever seen him, an almost serene smile softening his features as he smoothed his robes. He had a request for Barok.

"I'd like to borrow Soval as well, if it's all right with you."

"Of course. I suggested it earlier. He likes you, and such animals repel malignant spirits. He will help if you keep him close."

Soval jumped again on his new favourite spot on Lotor's shoulder.

"Does this cat eat mice?" Asked Keith in sudden apprehension.

"Soval? Hunt?" Barok laughed uproariously, and Soval proceeded to studiously ignore him, licking a paw to soothe his bruised pride, a white little fang bared in an indignant scold.

***** ***** *****

Dozens of sketches of Soval in a myriad of positions littered Lotor's room. He was satisfied with them, but felt it would be better to see the feline in a natural setting. He could manage a few hundred feet from the pilots, but to go in the forest, it would be more prudent to bring one of them.

It thought it would be an useless battle to try and be civil to the Commander twice in the same day, and was glad to meet Pidge first. The Green Lion pilot shrugged.

"No problem, I can script just as well from the woods."

They went on a tour, and Lotor forced the cat off his shoulder. Soval yowled indignantly.

"Cat, you were the one to appear insulted by the sorcerer's mockery of your hunting skills," commented Lotor with a smirk.

Soval seemed at least as versed in biped language as Coba. He bristled, took a regal pose, then started prowling with intent purpose. Pidge chuckled.

"Would you know where is Little Flower," asked Lotor. "I haven't seen her for days."

"The count Soubise grounded her. He wants her to focus on 'proper interests' for young noble women."

"Like marriage and genetics, I take it," said Lotor bitterly.

"Crudely put, yes."

"I hope Allura blocks those obligations before she becomes an unwilling Baroness. Have you an idea when this farce is supposed to take place?"

"Her marriage you mean? No idea. But I wouldn't fear, she would never accept."

"You haven't read the law, Baron. She doesn't even have to consent. A simple 'no' wouldn't work. Why do you think I fear for Allura so?"

Pidge sputtered.

"But that's... barbaric!"

"And useful for people like me. I do wonder who that Baron is and why he wants union with a fourteen-year-old. And we should know when this Count Soubise plans to have the ceremony. I hope your pilot morals do not prevent you from crashing unwanted parties."

"Nope. It warrants looking into at least... I'm on it."

Lotor nodded in approval. They followed Soval, the ex-prince keenly observing the grace of the feline. The cat crouched, leaped, ran for short stretches and even caught a bird, Pidge resolutely turning his back as the poor thing was devoured.

Soval was not used to long stretches of hunting and soon manoeuvred to surprise his new biped by jumping on his shoulder from a tree and hang on tightly, claws clamped with unbreakable determination. Lotor sighed. He had gotten to see the moves he wanted, so he indulged the lazy cat and they returned to the palace.

Lotor went back to his designs, and Pidge went directly to Allura to inquire about Rose. She promised to check on the little ferret.

***** ***** *****

It wasn't long before Lotor was ready to begin on the computer. He sent Soval back to the village, thanking the cat for the inspiration. He already had enlisted Pidge and Hunk, and they practically lived in the lab, going over fantastic sketches and schematics.

Keith came to visit often, just to make sure the drule didn't abuse his comrades, but the fear was unwarranted. They looked more like kids in a sand box then antagonists. The ex-prince was soon ready to begin modelling his creation.

Obviously, this was not the first time Lotor used 3D software to generate plans. Keith had to admit that the drule, Pidge and Hunk were complementary geniuses. Not only did the new design look sleek, but the projected Lions could join more swiftly. The resulting mecha had the grace of a khiarateer.

He looked forward to seeing the finished product. He doubted the real Voltron could be made to look like these bold designs. The Lions were literally possessed machines, and this new version was still just a fancy casing. What if they couldn't match the insides? What if the spirits refused to enter these new bodies?

All those worries evaporated on the fifth day of the trio's work. The commander visited the lab as usual and was observing their progress, when he suddenly felt strange. Looking at his hand, he saw that it glowed. A halo of silvery light lined his body and expended.

Amazed, he saw that Hunk and Pidge were surrounded by light as well. Green and golden light coalesced around them. They looked at each other in amazement. There was no pain, just a sense of loss when the lights seeped out and began to reach for Lotor.

The drule backed away in terror. These looked too much like Haggar's friends to him. He bumped against a piece of equipment and landed none too graciously on the floor. And then they were on him. Red and blue light came right through the ceiling and joined the others. They couldn't see the ex-prince anymore as he was cocooned in their beauty.

The lights lifted abruptly and went back to their protégés. Keith sighed in relief when he felt the spirit of the Black Lion back in the depth of his soul. He felt part of it missing, but it caused no discomfort.

No one talked. Lotor was dazed. His eyes were unfocussed. In a trance, he rose and went to his computer. He began to type furiously, with preternatural speed.

Hunk came closer to see if he was all right.

*Leave him be, gentle warrior*

He stopped, and they witnessed the strange possession. For several hours, Lotor didn't sleep, eat or rest. He was totally immersed in such complex mechanics that even Pidge could only look in confusion.

They showed this to the others and Allura worried. She brought Coran to see this trance the drule was caught in.

"You were there, Coran, when father built Voltron. Was he in any way possessed like this?" She asked.

"It's very similar," he answered. "Alfor kept mumbling though, as if conversing with them. There is nothing we can do. He won't stop until he has finished what they want him to accomplish."

"At any rate, Lotor will be exhausted when they let go; they don't seem to acknowledge the limits and needs of an organic body," Coran added, looking out reproachfully. "They almost killed Alfor when he built Voltron."

*Keeper.*

The voices spoke to Coran, and they knew this even if they did not say his name. *You speak the truth. We forget your fragility. We haven't had organic bodies for eons. We will allow the thinker to rest."

Lotor suddenly pitched forward like a puppet with its strings cut. He rolled off his chair and spilled on the floor. Allura was closest and knelt beside him. His eyes opened, and his face lit in a beatific smile. "Did I save all this?"

***** ***** *****

Hehe, the spirits are eager! Lotor will have his hands (and his mind) full! This is the second half of the last chapter, that's why its rather short. I just finished it today. I know where this is going, I do have a plan (!) but most of it isn't written yet. I'm still swamped by Real Life, but I wanted to post another chapter before the 24th. To those who celebrate this Holiday, Happy Christmas, and to those who don't, Happy New Year! Merry whatever you choose to celebrate for, may it be a time of joy and discoveries, peace and health!


	28. interlude 3

Interlude 3

Bummer, I think I lost readers because I didn't make it a Allura-Lotor fic. Well, there are plenty of those, and I enjoy them quite a lot. But my story just didn't go that way. When you start on characters, and you know this if you write stories, they kind of take matters in their own hands.

When I chose to make Allura a competent ruler, It came with the package deal: she would _never_ leave her people, even if she was madly in love. That would have made Lotor an Arusian prince consort at best, but instead I chose to give him also a sense of responsibility toward his own people. Its building slowly, but its there, in his links with the refugees, and his growing respect for Kovak.

And it will affect the rest of the story. Its not over because the couples are settling, folks! No kiss and they lived happily ever after and had lots of white haired kids! The story _continues_. Come on, when your sisters, and brothers and friends married or dated, did life end? If your love dumped you to date your rivals, you had to roll back your sleeves and live, didn't you? And I'm sure you are strong enough. I made Lotor a strong character. And no, he'll never stop loving her. Its that kind of feeling that never dies. If ever a woman comes into his life, she'll have to understand and accept she is number two.

Will he ever get to be with Allura? Sheesh, it would take a very convoluted sequel! Not sure I want to get into this. But when my story ends, (and it's a saga I warn you, it has many chapters coming! And the intrigue will take you on other planets too.) You can always beg...

And no, no classic turning Keith into a complete bastard so that Allura can realize she loves Lotor after all. If you want that, you have full permission to write it and post it as an alternative of my story, (but give me credits for my own chapters) but its not in my plans. I love those stories and read them and appreciate them, but I wont reproduce them 'with variations'. Besides I like Keith, I'm trying my best to give dimension and depth to all the pilots.

I admit, Keith is so perfect, I had trouble figuring out something to break his mold a bit, but I did! And its part of the secrets Lotor has found out about the pilots. His choosing not to reveal it is the first hint of sympathy he showed to the Black Lion Pilot ever. Might be the last as well, seeing as the perfect knight got the girl, (grrr!) but we'll see how it plays out. Of course it will come out eventually! ;-)

You Lotor fans, I hope you like him enough to continue to read my story, even though its not the story-that-brings-Allie&Lotie-cutely-together. Its still Lotor centric. I like Lotor, he's got his own set of rules and take on honour, but he does have a code, a spine, and a heart. Its because of that heart that he did what he did, and you got to admit, it took a lot of courage. Aren't you inordinately proud of him? I know the refugees are.

Note I didn't put 'romance' in the style of the story. Its just not the main focus. There will be, of course. Lotor and Allura have a nice conversation coming. Sorry, just talk. (darn!) Lance will find romance too.

You Keith fans, as I said, he wont turn into a bastard. He'll stay the noble, black haired, handsome hero you love. He's in a for a ride, courtesy of Pidge, among others, so please read on even if he is not the main character.

Ever since "A Mutiny and a Proposal", most reviews asked me to get Lotor and Allura together. Sorry, the story will go where it will. So. You want this story to continue or not? Lots of good things are coming for our wayward Prince. Can you stomach a different Lotor-centric fic? Tell me, cause I don't want to write in a void.

By the way. Want to archive my story somewhere else? (That would be sooo cool) Sure, just let me know.

So. Continue?

Waiting for feedback! Give me a Christmas gift, tell me in a review! It would make my year to have several. Pleeeaaase... *Sits, stares at you with puppy eyes and twiddle thumbs*


	29. Under Pressure

This one is rather long. I mention another episode of V3D in which some journalists (don't remember the exact sequence of events) managed to spy on the team, and the resulting footage was used to convince Amalgamus (the ruler) that the team was a menace. A trial followed and they were cleared. I thought it rather impossible for anyone to have acquired those images, but hey, I didn't write the show. So to explain how it is possible I invented cloaked cameras that seedy opportunists use to sell info, blackmail, etc.

**Under Pressure**

Lotor slept like the dead. They thought he might feel disoriented when he woke, so they took turns watching him in groups until then. Allura, Lance, Hunk and Pidge were present when he did, and even before his eyes had fully opened, they felt the spirits reaching again.

"Wait!" Cried Allura. "Let him eat something and refresh himself first!"

She was irritated and they all could feel the spirits' embarrassment as they retreated.

"You sure are in a hurry..." Commented Lance.

*This is exciting, Fiery One. We haven't had new shapes in quite a while. We will try to quell our eagerness. The thinker is not well. But we cannot repair him.*

Lotor looked up in confusion.

"Are you all right?" Inquired Hunk.

"Tired. Whatever stepped on me?"

"The spirits of the Lions took residence, and then control," explained Pidge. "You were well out of it. Do you remember anything?"

Lotor's eyes widened. "All of it," he said in wonder, "I remember all it all..."

Allura got closer.

"They said you were not well. Are you hiding something again?"

Lotor sighed and let his head fall back on his pillow.

"For this kind of unwell, you can't do much. Unless you fall out of love and suddenly find me irresistible, I'm afraid I'll just remain a melancholic idiot. I'm just tired. Sleep deprived."

His voice was breaking and Allura looked crushed.

"It's not your fault," Lotor added as she became sad. "I can't control this. I never could."

He was in obvious distress and it broke her heart.

"I'm sorry, Lotor. I am... flattered and I do admire your persistence, just not in the way you wish. It saddens me to see you suffer..."

She left the room, head lowered. Pidge followed to make sure she was ok.

"There isn't much joy to your manner of living, humans," Lotor whispered. "I release her and both of us are unhappy. Should I have acted otherwise?"

"Naw. She not unhappy," Lance said. "On the contrary, she's _insanely_ happy. They float, the lovebirds, when they steal moments together." He sounded a tad bitter. "It's so sappy you can almost stick to whatever floor they just passed. She just feels guilty cause you're in pain. I say again, campanule. Sometimes, doing the right thing just s*cks."

Lotor eyed Lance studiously.

"And you would know, wouldn't you. It was no 'crush' you had," he guessed.

Lance shrugged.

"How can you stand it?" Lotor asked, genuinely curious.

"Who says I do?"

Hunk cleared his throat.

"Guys, you're getting creepy. Why don't we go back to the logistics of living? Let's have a nice breakfast. Now that's joyful."

"The big lummox is right," said Lance, putting his smile firmly back in place. "We could go picnic outside and seep in some vitamin D. Do drules tan?"

Well, even if sleep eluded him, Lotor had to admit having companions who understood and cared was strangely touching. He agreed, got cleaned up and dressed as Hunk worked his magic on the castle personnel to provide them with a portable feast.

They did not go far. They didn't want to anger Hausmann, who kept close tabs on Lotor. The garden was perfect for an impromptu picnic. Besides, it was still a bit chilly outside. Daffodils multiplied the sun, and a back drop of blue muscari made their yellows and oranges seem even warmer.

Hunk called Pidge, who in turn communicated with Kovak, and the little group was sorting the food when Dr. Hausmann appeared. They surmised correctly that Allura had sent him.

Lotor growled as the doctor, unfazed, passed his scanner _(A/N directly borrowed from Star Trek... ^_^)_ on the drule.

"Well well," said Hausmann, going over his findings. "You should come to the medwing for a follow up on these problems."

"What problems, Hausmann?" Asked Lotor irritably. "I'm perfectly all right."

"Perfectly underweight, nerve shot, borderline anaemic... among others... don't tell me you _feel_ perfectly all right. Not possible."

Lotor scowled. He turned his attention to Hunk as the pilot distributed food. The servants had packed those little drule pastries, his personal favourite. The Yellow Lion pilot was right: their knowledge was uncanny.

"So," began Pidge."You said you remember? You're so lucky, having all this knowledge just poured in!"

He was obviously fascinated.

"Don't fret, Baron, your turn is coming. You'll program those cats. And you, yellow boy, will build them. So get a lot of rest: they'll come for you."

"Does it hurt or anything?" Asked Hunk a bit apprehensively.

"No. Not until they release you. Then you remember you own a body."

They ate and then talked in comfortable companionship. Lotor saw Lance wandering a little farther off. He joined him.

"Since you understand so well, pilot," the drule started awkwardly, "I might have lost a good occasion to shut up this morning. Do you think she is all right? Could you check?"

"No need," said Lance as he gestured toward the garden's entrance.

The princess and the commander were coming, obviously to join them since he carried a basket. Allura was smiling. The relief was so clear on Lotor's face that Lance marvelled again at the depth of his feelings toward her. The Red Lion pilot really hoped Keith would make her too happy for words. He had to, after all this.

If not, he'd probably _let_ the campanule kidnap her. Hell, he'd even help! They would sure make a strange menage à trois...

***** ***** *****

In the next days, Lotor spent his time half possessed, half being coerced into taking care of himself. Even though they were vigilant, the ex-prince was pale and they worried when his real hand began to show a slight tremor.

As soon as Lotor gave a tentative list of what would be needed, Lance announced he needed to take a vacation to get the materials from the Lost Net. Keith gave him one and Sven was called in to fill in for the Red Lion pilot. The Norwegian was not pleased to learn his nemesis had refugee status on Aris. Even after the lengthy explanation, he clearly disapproved.

In Sven's case though, it was understandable. He couldn't imagine Romelle's tormentor could have a change of heart. To him, it was as incredible as envisioning an executioner assist birth, hood and all. The former Blue Lion pilot demanded to see for himself the possessed drule.

Keith brought him to the laboratory. Sven witnessed first hand the dazed alien. A faint multicoloured aura coalesced around Lotor. Oblivious to his surroundings, he fingered his screen and typed, adding circuitry and casing to a 3D model. The holographic image showed only an inner part, but soon, the drule zoomed out, and they could see an unfinished mechanical lion. Sven had a moment of pure awe and forced himself to a neutral expression. He stiffly commented.

"Impressive."

The ex-prince zoomed in another part, and the two pilots left the lab.

"He's been at it for a while," said Keith.

"He does look sickly," admitted Sven.

"Dr. Hausmann is keeping tabs on him. He's our expert on cyborgs. Being taken over like this is not good for the central nervous system. Or the rest, for that matter. When they let go of the drule he can't even walk on his own."

"It iz strange, having him in ze castle."

"Very."

"Does he steel harass Allura?"

"Amazingly, no. He and the others kicked me until I... revealed my... affection for the princess."

"Vhat!?"

"It's true. And make no mistake. He really does love her, but he thinks he can no longer give her happiness."

"Could he ever? He never had much to offer..."

"He finally realized she was in love, just not with him. Moreover, he's diminished and most of his riches are gone, so he feels he can't make her happy. In his doomite head, power and riches matter."

"That iz crap, but I von't complain since it liberated ze princess. And how vill you manage? Doesn't Arisian law forbid her from marrying outside royalty?"

"We're working on it."

"Vith success?"

Keith sighed mournfully.

"Not yet. Some nobles are notoriously pig-headed, and unfortunately they got leverage. Allura is not one to go unilateral."

"Vell, the one good thing about Romelle's crazy father iz he revoked all those stupid laws. Romelle iz free to marry anyvone she likes."

"Good for you, neh?"

Sven gifted him with one of his sudden, rare smiles. Keith was as straight as a steel bar, but not blind, and he was immediately glad the brooding man loved Romelle so. Such a smile would turn any female into an adoring puddle, and he would have been unfair competition, really.

***** ***** *****

Ahhh choo!

Was it the seventh? Or ninth? Colds were certainly hard on drules, thought Pidge. Or maybe Lotor was allergic to something in the lab. When the spirits finally let go, the drule would sneeze, hack and cough for minutes, getting rid of accumulated fluids, so they put a tissue box near his terminal. Then, invariably, he would flee to the bathroom. After that, they'd have to cart him back to his room, for he could not stand up anymore. This day was pretty much the same.

"Are you almost done?" Asked Pidge as Lotor stumbled out of the bathroom. "With the design, I mean," precised the small Baron impishly.

"Three down, two to go," answered Lotor, ignoring the jab. "I'm keeping Green Lion for dessert. I just finished the Red. It's a beauty," added the ex-prince dreamily. "Your scoundrel will love it."

The drule sank in the wheelchair. Hausmann had insisted on this further humiliation; Lotor, uncharacteristically, hadn't argued for more then five minutes, which told volumes on how taxing the ordeal was. The chair was ergonomic and best of all, it had a winged back, so he could rest his head and doze off. He did just that as Pidge wheeled him away.

He woke up later in his bed, shuddering when he saw someone had put him in his nightshirt. He didn't dare ask if this was done by nurses. While his mind proceeded a tentative acceptance of the pilots, he didn't want them to see him like this.

Working within the spirits was extraordinary, but he was horribly weak when they left. He felt sick again, throat hurting, limbs trembling, and he needed lots of tissues, something he found disgusting. Speaking of tissues, he could do with half a ton just now. And just to spite him, the box was on the other side of the room.

He began the arduous task of getting up. He was alone in his room, and he thought it would be ridiculous to call a servant just for the purpose of retrieving a box, so he stood and started toward it. He never felt his collapse.

***** ***** *****

"You can't talk to him, Zarkon. He _unavailable_. Or is that too big a word for you?" Allura was saying to the caller displayed on the huge screen of the castle central. Zarkon looked healthy and as frightening as ever. Allura suppressed a shiver. The reinstated monarch continued.

"The little upstart thinks he can impress me with his supporters. He can't insult me thus and think to get away with it!"

"Supporters? What the heck are you talking about, Zarkon?"

"Don't play stupid. Haven't you heard the ridiculous, scattered refugee camps started to call themselves the Hidden Kingdom? There is talk of Lotor being the one to lead them."

"You're paranoid. Right now he couldn't lead ten fishes in an aquarium. Look for conspiracies elsewhere."

"It's not paranoia when it reaches the media, wench. It's all over the net."

Allura hid a start. She hadn't perused the newsnet for a while; she'd been distracted. Happily so, but distracted all the same.

"Don't let your crown curl, he barely even saw his own peers since he arrived here. He showed no interest in ruling, on the contrary. We have spies sicced on him, he's unarmed, and you made him so sick it's a wonder we managed to keep him alive. It _was_ you who made his cybernetic parts fail, wasn't it?"

Zarkon lifted his chin and bared his teeth in a chilling grin. "Control, my dear, it's all about control. In retrospective though, it would have been more useful to implant an exploding device. This way, I could have gotten rid of him _and_ you at the same time."

Allura made a sound of disgust and Coran cut the communication.

"Is it true, Coran?"

"It's those sensationalist 'reporters' again. They interviewed a couple of refugees and they happened to mention that if they could choose a new leader, they would go for Lotor."

Allura was surprised.

"Did they happen to say why?"

"I'm afraid the story of his finally letting go of you out of love has reached the press."

"WHAT! How? And how come you didn't tell me?"

"As to how, I have no idea. It made the front article of the newsnet a few days ago. As to why I didn't tell you... you were so happy, so relieved. What good would it have done? You'd find out soon enough."

"So half the universe knows I'm in love with Keith? And poked their nose in _very_ private affairs?"

"Those who visit the sensationalist press rooms anyway. Most don't believe it's true, but many think it's a romantic story. It's spreading like wild fire."

Allura buried her head in her hands. "Arrrg, we don't need this on top of all, Coran. Keith will be horrified. Lotor is crushed enough as it is. What am I going to do? What will the nobles think?"

"Actually, I think it can play in your favor, Allura."

"How so?"

"If our nobles hold on too firmly to archaic laws in face of such a noble sacrifice, they'll be ridiculed by the press. We just have to make a few statements to confirm or deny what can play in the direction we wish..."

"Isn't that manipulating?"

"Information media is used by all. Even your father wasn't averse to a good press conference to set things in the right direction. It's an avenue we neglected, and its high time we paid more attention. By the way, the news from Galaxy Garrison are a bit disturbing these days. Zarkon is aiming closer to Earth this time. They have regualr attacks, and Garrison seem intent of centralization of defenses. The far quadrants are worried. We'll have to convene of a meeting so we can discuss this. But in regard to your situation, you have nothing to lose by using the press."

"I can't lie to people. If I do make announcements, they have to be true."

"And I would never dispute that, Allura. But you can use the plain truth. It will leave the most stubborn noble in a neat corner: either permit the change of these laws or pass for monsters. What Lotor did _is_ noble, and Keith _is_ an astounding young man, well worth your affection. He saved our planet countless time and showed selfless bravery. He's an able leader, and has proven to be superior to all the contenders that showed up so far..."

Allura smiled. Nikolai had been useful, after all. Bokar on his own hadn't managed to deter Nanny and Coran, but the second (or third, counting Lotor himself) villainous prince to try to snag her had radically changed her two oldest retainers' point of view on available 'nice preences'. Having all of her friend on her side was very comforting.

Just then the communicating screen lit again to show Hausmann, who told them Lotor had just collapsed.

***** ***** *****

"Complete rest for the week at least. And I mean rest!" Hausmann was in full rant mode. "No spirits, no possessions, no khiara, and absolutely NO journalists. Proper nourishment... Cyborgs can't afford to play with their health."

"He'll hate it, being bedridden," commented Hunk.

They were in Lotor's room. The drule was sleeping peacefully, safely tucked in his bed with plenty of blankets. Four pilots were crowding the place. Lance was still off world, and Sven was evidently not at ease seeing the drule, so he used this time to relay the situation to Romelle, using their most secure channel and an encryption code built by Pidge himself.

Hausmann was pacing furiously on the colourful drulean rug, another gift from the enclave.

"That'll teach him to exaggerate," he said. "He doesn't eat enough, and he's seriously depressed. If he's going to be stubborn about not undergoing therapy, he should at _least_ take his pills. As it is, he's so fragilized even this stupid cold virus is a threat."

While ranting, Hausmann was scribbling one prescription after the other.

"You tell him to follow his regimen or I'll sic Nanny on him!"

"Geez, man," said Hunk. "You're cruel."

"You better believe it!"

The doctor passed the sheaf of prescriptions to Allura.

"All of that?" She asked.

"All of that. And I'll stick around. Doesn't he realize how fragile the immune system of a cyborg is? He's lucky to be half drule, otherwise, he would not even have survived the initial crash. The attack that made him reject his implants and the subsequent surgeries wrecked his immune system. I told him that!"

"He did not tell us," said Allura, feeling a bit hurt.

"He's proud, princess. And he probably thought we humans underestimate the resilience of Drules. It's true they are very though, but he's half human, and between the crash and multiple surgeries, he used up all his drule heritage has to offer."

Hausmann crossed his arms and addressed the air in indignation.

"And 'benevolent' spirits should know better! Let him rest! Being recreated is fun all right, isn't it? Well it'll take a bit longer! Live with it! It's not as if the actual Lions were scrap metal! Getting new bodies shouldn't be at the cost of his! He has precious little of it left!"

*Desist, Healer, desist! We understand. We will follow your directives.*

Hausmann nodded and left the room in a huff, not realizing he had just cowed five powerful, eons old spirits.

The doctor was one of the few privileged who knew about the Voltron upgrade, along with Sven and Coran. This information at least hadn't leaked. Hunk had been obsessed with the newsnet sources. How the hell had they found out? The refugees were the obvious culprits, but he didn't buy it. They seemed genuinely fond of Lotor and wouldn't willingly cause him trouble, and calling him a future leader was clearly bringing unwanted attention to him. Besides, the refugees that were interviewed were not on Aris, but in a camp on a planet much closer to Earth.

He and Pidge had pondered the problem and they planned on visiting the lake to see of they'd find those little spy cams favoured by unethical reporters. He remembered the disgust he'd felt when they found those cameras right inside their cockpits, and the trouble that followed when entities best unnamed twisted the footage to make them appear bad.

But that was for later. The teammates now turned their attention to the sleeping drule.

"He looks peaceful now," commented Allura. "But I dread how he'll take his life and future being discussed on public media. And being trapped in bed... He'll hate it. It'll be a horrible week for him. How can we help?"

"Sic Rose on him, Allura," suggested Pidge.

Allura smiled gratefully. "Pidge, you're a genius. She always manages to make him lower his guard and relax. The little brainiac can afford to miss classes. I'll fetch her."

"She'll be ecstatic," commented Pidge. "School is boring for wizkids."

"And you would know..."

They left when a nurse arrived to keep watch. Allura went directly to the educational section of the castle while Pidge and Hunk went to the lake. Pidge found a cloaked camera by using a gadget he had created after the incident of the hidden cams in the Lions. He didn't remove it, instead he carefully avoided being seen by it as he hooked his apparatus to hack the feed. He proceeded to find the destination of the images. True to type, they went directly to a trashy tabloid's database.

Well, at least, it wasn't on a drule one. Or on V'thaï...

Pidge wisely decided to sweep all the significant areas of Aris for those little monstrosities.

***** ***** *****

Another chapter done! Yey! I told you Rose was going to come back... She is in deep trouble. Allura will be furious in the next chapter. Don't worry, poor Lotor isn't dying! He's just exhausted.

Zarkon is pissed, and he has other reasons besides his wayward son supposedly stirring trouble. He's also working hard on influencing things to go in the direction he wants. We'll have a bit of an insight of that, don't know exactly where or when, but its coming.

It's a lot of job! I have little bits of the story written, snippets really, and I have to connect it all. It's fun though. Some parts are still nebulous, but I'm getting there. The end is written. Until next time, au revoir!


	30. Proper Behavior

**Proper Behavior**

Perhaps she should visit that Barok fellow, Allura thought . Her brisk walk challenged the fabric of her skirt, and the thing seemed intent on tripping her. She sighed, for she remembered that when she mentioned that problem to Nanny, the governess just said "it would not happen if you kept a pace suitably dignified for a young woman of your rank."

Lotor's collapse was not really surprising to her. The drule was so intent on showing only strength that he pushed himself beyond his limits. She knew his crazed longing contained a core of love so fierce it was frightening. Considering how obsessed he was with her, she could only guess the pain of letting go. The upgrading project kept his mind busy and the spirits' possession must have pushed away his pain.

She tried to imagine herself in his predicament, having to give up on her own dark eyed Commander to free him for another woman, and just thinking of it constricted her throat painfully. In truth, she knew she would be capable of it, but was infinitely glad she did not have to. It would tear her apart.

To doomites, ambition was a prized trait, and in his constant pursuing of her, Lotor had confused his wishes, his feelings and his goals. That did not excuse him, nor did it did not lessen his guilt on his murderous intents on her teammates, but Allura was impressed at how genuinely he now tried to play by their rules, even if he did not understand them. Not yet anyhow. Perhaps in time...

It broke her heart to see him puzzled by kind gestures, as if he'd never been the recipient of such freely given kindness. His childlike enjoyment of any plant life was almost endearing, too. The others had described to her his forays in the forest with Rose, saying he became transformed, young and unguarded. Doom had been sterile and barren; was it any wonder Lotor regarded trees, insects and flowers as marvels?

It was probably a good thing she never witnessed this wide-eyed fascination... Lotor was very handsome after all, even with the half mask. But of course, she would never admit it to him. That would send mixed signals, and while she admired his strength in dire circumstances, she did not return his feelings and didn't want to give him any false hope.

She slowed upon entering the educational section of the castle. The few stragglers in the corridors stared at the Princess all the way to the principal's office.

The prim, severe woman stopped fiddling with her paperwork and her eyes widened at her unannounced guest. She hastily rose and curtsied, and Allura motioned to her to be at ease. The principal was following the semi Victorian dress code of the Arisian upper crust, harboring a dark, severe dress buttoned all the way to her long neck. She appeared daunting, but Allura detected gentleness in her. She offered a seat and a coffee. Allura took the chair, declined the coffee and asked for Miss Kohana Soubise.

"Our little Rose? She is home tutored now. We haven't seen her for a couple of weeks."

"Really?" Asked Allura in a slightly dangerous tone.

"The Count requested it," answered the principal a bit defensively. "It is his right to do so. I don't understand, though, she was doing well enough in spite of her penchant for skipping class and her constant spying on the teachers... Her grades could use improvement, but we are persuaded she is highly intelligent. Just bored to tears in class, and quite a handful I assure you!" said the thin woman with a fond smile. "I miss her, actually. She used to end up in my office quite often!"

"I'm not surprised," Allura commented, smiling. "I guess I'll have to go directly to the Count, then. Thank you."

Allura rose to leave the office.

"You're welcome, Your Majesty. If you can convince the Count to give us another chance with the imp, we would be happy to have her back," said the principal as she rose as well and curtsied again, looking hopeful. "Her lack of protocol is refreshing, I must say."

Allura smiled and told she would do her best.

***** ***** *****

"Sheesh, Campanule," said Lance with a disgusted pout, holding a cup of pills. "Just take 'em, ok? I don't want to force the whole thing down your throat, but Al blackmailed me."

"What with, human?" Lotor asked, almost amused.

"Not tellin', blueberry, not stupid..."

The pilot was blushing; Lotor concluded he must have had interesting encounters while away. He took the offered glass and downed the impressive amount of pills, idly wondering if Hausmann wanted to slowly poison him. Still, if one of those could stop the congestion it might be worth it...

"There, red boy. Can I get up now?"

"Afraid not. We drew straws, you know?"

"Drew what?"

"Straws. Human custom. Whoever draws the shortest inherits a generally unpleasant task. In this case, tell you the bad news..." Lance braced himself before continuing : "you're not getting out of this room for a week."

"W... what?", cried Lotor, eyes narrowing to slits.

"Hey," threw Lance defensively, "Take it up to Hausmann, it's his call."

Lotor growled and snarled.

"How am I supposed to take my mind off her, then? I'll go insane!"

"Maybe we could negotiate a pleasant spot in the garden, ne? A warm place in the sun. Plants do fascinate you."

Lotor blinked.

"Would you do this? Ask Hausmann?"

"Ask Hausmann what?" Inquired the doctor as he entered the room.

"Talk of the devil," Lance quipped good naturedly.

The next hour was spent in hard negotiating, and it was decided that as long as Lotor stayed off his legs except for precise exercises and short walks, and that he dutifully took his pills, he could rest just as well outside if weather permitted.

***** ***** *****

Allura went all the way to the noble's part of the castle, by far the most lavish. When the castle had assumed its fortress mode, most of the ancient decoration and accoutrements were lost. But this part was well within the protected areas and most works of arts were a bit cramped on both sides of the large corridors. Allura did not dare put the bronze statues back outside for fear they would be destroyed. Not much was left from the wars.

Still, it annoyed her that this wings were so lavishly ornamented, since the nobles seemed to think it was solely for their benefit : the art was not there for its protection, but for the acknowledgment of their station.

Allura wished she could put it everywhere in the castle, but she didn't want her staff and soldiers tripping on the stuff during emergencies. The other halls were kept pretty much barren.

The Count had one of the smallest suites, a fact that chaffed at his pride. He had tried to explain to Allura that the others assumed it meant he wasn't favored by her, but Allura had argued many times against giving a large suite to someone who had a fair amount of lands and a Manor.

Since this particular manor had been used by the drules as quarters for officers during the occupation, it had not been destroyed like so many others, and it was now empty. The Count was free to live there, he just chose not too.

To this he said he could do a better job of directing the spies directly from the castle, but the Princess had pointed out that historically, many spymasters had lived outside of the castle perimeter. Still, Soubise would not budge. He figured Kohana could net a better catch if they gravitated inside the nobility's nest right here in the heart of Aris.

Allura sighed and rang the golden, elaborate doorbell. She was even more irritated when nobody answered. She spotted a regular servant and asked her. It appeared Count Soubise had gone back to his own lands after all. No matter, she would go to the generous suite of the Baroness Virona. The woman was fond of Kohana and the worst gossip in the court.

***** ***** *****

Baroness Virona was indeed a fountain of information. She insisted that Allura sit for a tea and refreshment in exchange for the crispy details, as she put it.

Allura learned the nobles were surprised that Soubise had returned to his manor. It was far up north, well away from the castle.

When he had come to live in the castle with his slanted eyed daughter, some whispered that he couldn't bear to be in the place where his beloved wife had lived. Too many memories.

Her death, explained Baroness Virona, had transformed the Count profoundly. While she was there, he did not care about what the nobles' clique thought, his bubble of happiness was all powerful. So his wife was an outsider? It did not matter. He was still a Count and a force to reckon with.

But now his beloved was gone, and only the shunning remained. He had tried to regain the consideration of his peers and failed. He was deeply hurt that Kohana was considered something of a wild, illegitimate child. Soubise became obsessed with providing a golden future for his daughter, in which she would be acknowledged as a true Arisian.

To achieve this, he had accepted a small suite in the castle and the position of spymaster, a job that would not require him to travel. His avowed goal was to rebuild his status and marry off Kohana to elevate her to a title no one would dare turn their nose up on.

That he had now returned to his manor could mean many things, but Virona surmised that it meant the Count had found what he was looking for : a high ranked person that would take his daughter's hand in marriage.

She assumed her eternal rival, the Baron Morney, had accepted Soubise's proposition, whatever it was.

"Surely there was some money involved," the noblewoman stated as she helped herself to a platter of petits fours. "Morney never does a single thing that fails to add to his fortune."

Allura left with her belly full of over sweet cakes and her mind filled with fury. What an imbecile, thinking it would bring Rose happiness to be curtsied to.

She was confused, though. Soubise had enormous but mostly uninhabited lands. His tax income was undoubtedly low, and the allocation he received from her was not extravagant. Surely there was something else. She decided to enlist Pidge's help. A little hacking was in order. As a ruler, she had a right to poke in the finances of her own council, after all. She also decided to give the Count a call.

***** ***** *****

Allura stared. Her little flower had answered herself. Kohana appeared on the command room's screen, and if it hadn't been for her rather unique features here on Aris, she would have been unrecognizable. Her hair was done up in an elegant bun, she had a perfectly nice butter yellow dress, one Nanny would have gushed upon, and her posture was perfectly straight and formal.

"Rose?"

"Yes, your Majesty?" She inquired in a bland voice.

"Are you quite all right? You seem different."

"I just learned proper behavior, Your Majesty. It is necessary for a Baroness to have a modicum of manners, don't you think?"

"Just who are you and what have you done with Rose?"

"Rose is gone, I'm afraid. It was necessary, I was told."

That was delivered in the same bland, peasant tone, with a diplomatic smile.

"I wish to speak with your father," stated Allura, in full regal mode.

"He is hunting with Baron Morney. He will not be back until late, I'm afraid, Your Highness. But I can tell him you wish to speak with him, he shall be honored to return your call..."

Allura was stunned and nodded before ending the communication. What had happened to their lively ferret?

She put in another call.

"Dr. Gorma?"

***** ***** *****

"There," said Pidge. "That should be the last one of them. If journalists want some footage, they'll have to actually send someone for it. Security should be able to handle that, I suppose."

Pidge was putting away the last retrieved spy cam in a special storage room in the lab. They could prove useful later on. It was Pidge's private haven, where he stashed away all the interesting gizmos he had accumulated over the years.

He felt a bit strange, but figured it was just the Lion spirit being fidgety. While puttering around chatting amiably with his partner he became concerned by his lack of response. He understood upon seeing the sudden glow of his hands.

"Hunk?"

The Yellow Lion pilot was staring straight ahead, and Pidge instantly recognized the haze of color surrounding him. The spirits were at it again.

He addressed the thin air : "Lotor isn't finished with his part, and Lance just pulled the strings that will bring the material, so what's your hurry?"

*There are a number of things the Builder can already work on while the other is at rest. We will be careful,* the spirits intoned.

Hunk was already in his own part pf the lab, busily scanning Lotor's schematics. He looked much more alert then the drule had been. Pidge supposed that since the Lions were inside of them, the possession was less invasive.

This part of the work also required much more movement then the tapping of fingers on a keyboard. Pidge's assumption proved correct when Hunk looked at him and smiled, signaling he was ok. Then, as any builder does, he started to take notes, going to this or that part of the lab, and called technicians to get materials.

Pidge, reassured, asked if he could help and Hunk put him to calculus.

The spirits were bubblingly happy, and their enthusiasm made the work pleasant.

***** ***** *****

Dr. Gorma was Allura's personal physician. His practice included most of the soldiers, the nobles, the pilots, Nanny, Coran and Rose, among others. His schedule was cramped and the last few years he had been hiring new recruits. Dr. Hausmann was one of his finer catch.

It was pure luck they had a cybernetics expert and Hausmann was the obvious choice to take on Lotor's case. Gorma had been happy to lend his expertise on drule physiology but cybernetic limbs were not his forte. His star recruit had proven an excellent choice for the fallen prince.

As a patient, Allura was very mindful of her responsibilities and maintained a good health, but she was also stubborn about toughing it out when she was hurt. It was rare that she called him. Generally, she was dragged against her will either by Nanny or the pilots. It was with surprise he received her call.

She told him of Rose's complete change of personality.

"well, what do you think?" Asked Allura.

"there are a number of medications that could have altered Rose's behavior. As I said, I stopped being her physician when she moved. I transferred her medical file to her new doctor. I could contact him and ask about this radical change."

"Please do. Seeing her like this creeped me out."

"Language, princess... I'll look into it"

"Thank you."

***** ***** *****

The next day saw Lotor was in Allura's garden, ensconced in the lavish garden furniture that had been installed for him. Soon bored with his reading, he got up and carefully made his way to an artificial pond. It had colored fish, a form of life he had rarely seen from this close. There was a bench nearby. He gratefully sat, his legs hurting as usual, but even if the garden was empty and no one could see him, pride and ingrained behavior made him take an unconsciously regal pose.

The playful fish swam lazily, and Lotor observed them a moment before sighing, contemplating the last months.

He was so deep on thought that he didn't react immediately when he heard a rustle. Either they had a new, clumsy spy, or someone was trying to sneak up on him. Or three... he could hear it coming from different sources.

Alarmed, he realized he was unarmed and quite vulnerable. He didn't change his position, so they wouldn't know immediately he was on to them. He heard a strange noise all around him, and then, the would-be spies or attackers simply ran away giggling. He though he heard "Got him!"

He didn't feel any different. No darts, no deadly rays or poisonous gas... What was that about?

***** ***** *****

He got his answer the next day : the current biggest 3D info publisher had on its home page a complete hologram of him seated on Allura's elegant white metal bench.

It had only a few frames, the only movement being his locks of white hair and the silks he was wearing gently lifted by a breeze. With Barok's splendid robe and Lotor's sad but proud bearing, the twelve inches high hologram was sculptural.

It rapidly became a viral as people downloaded it onto their portable 3D platforms. The prince smirked, thinking of all the mini holograms of him adorning mantlepieces and desks in the quadrant, turning slowly on their tiny platforms. Now wouldn't that make the fossil furious?

Lance teased him about it, and Lotor just shrugged. Pidge admired the technology, using only three points to get such a splendid result...

Hunk was still swamped over with the building of extraordinarily complex mechanic, completely oblivious and near ecstatic. They did not bother him.

Allura was furious journalists actually succeeded making it to the perimeter of the castle, before Coran reminded her that the press had been given such privileges years ago for a documentary on Aris' history and that she never revoked it, a genuine press pass gave them access. So she could not really sue them. Then she was furious at herself for having forgotten.

Keith was more preoccupied with the security issues. Who else besides the press had those passes? The prince was once more ordered in his rooms for the next days, for his own safety. The Commander was also worried about the article that accompanied the hologram. It talked again of how the refugees had a association of sorts, its avowed goal was to establish themselves on a new world. Lotor was mentioned as a possible leader.

The prince, in spite of the half mask, or perhaps because of it, cut an impressive figure on this hologram. The drule was once again becoming a player on the intergalactic field, whether he liked it or not.

Lotor failed to take this seriously : there wasn't a chance he was going to become an Emperor, King, or what-not. He didn't even want it anymore. He just wanted his chosen peace at the end of this year. Then he would no longer be bound by Sacred Duty. He would be free to decide, and he had not changed his mind, especially now that Allura was safely in the Commander's arms.

He figured that if he ignored the new popularity of the sob stories published about drule refugees, and the speculation that he was their 'savior', the hype would pass and they would find a new subject to chew on.

He wouldn't waste his time even thinking about it. What with his father concentrating his conquests near the earth, they would soon have other news to tackle besides scattered packs of refugees.

If he knew his father well, and he did, all the near quadrant of the Alliance would soon have other preoccupations. For Lotor was sure : no attacks here meant Zarkon had his sight elsewhere.

His most successful strategy so far had been to take the Alliance from within. Lotor had no doubts he would soon reap the seeds he had sown everywhere in their government for years. And then, as the Red Lion pilot was fond to say, s*** would really hit the fan.

***** ***** *****

The day after, Allura received the awaited call for Dr. Gorma. He was ranting at top speed.

"He says she has a disorder? Rose?"

"ADHD to be exact, and he prescribed something exaggeratedly strong. It would make zombified kittens out of enraged lions... Why, it would even tame_ Lance_!"

Gorma was furious. He protested, but could not prove that the ferret was within normal boundaries. Her physician pointed out she presented most of the symptoms : poor grades, hyperactivity, babbling, temper tantrums... The count was enchanted with the results, saying she had become much more attentive and pleasant.

Gorma knew it was all a matter of interpretation. He could not overrule another physician's diagnostic without directly attacking his competence, and it would take months to settle that kind of dispute. Time that Rose did not have : the marriage with the Baron was arranged, no date specified.

In her present state, she would likely agree pleasantly if someone asked her to walk on coals, and smile on the way.

It seemed they had finally found the way to force the little flower into 'proper behavior.'

***** ***** *****

**Author's notes:**

ADHA : Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. Many kids behaving like ping pong balls are diagnosed with this disorder. Some trully have it. They need the medication, it trully helps. Others are just lively, bored, and spectacular. I'm not an expert on the subject, and the medication they gave Rose is pure invention.

Rose having bad grades is in part based on one of my brothers, terribly intelligent, but who was bored at school and didn't pay attention. He turned out an engineer, in the end. So Rose's intellect is seen only in that which interests her, spying, observation, stealth, profiling, other cultures, that kind of stuff.

I have a writing block the size of a _province_. It's been choking me since the beginning of the year. I haven't abandoned though! What spurred me to squeeze this chapter? Someone added Sworn Duty to their favorite stories list! Yey! Thanks to **the dark rose maiden**.

Bridging this part with the last leg of the story is a painful process, really, since the 10 or so chapters that finish this fic are already written. Its a lot of logistics and details to write in and I don't know yet how certain facts will come about. For example, we'll go to Balto soon. We'll have visit from Earth too, that will please Keith a lot. (Nonono, not a woman come to woo him away from Allura! Poor Lotor... But Pidge will be pleasantly surprised as well.)

I agonize over details. My brother suggested a convenient " A few years later..." but that would be cheating. Action is coming, slowly but steadily.

So don't be too hard on me! I'm suffering here! ;-)


End file.
